The Guardians A-Z
by Poxy Kirkman
Summary: A series of drabbles based on and around the Guardians, their enemies, and all the people they know.
1. Aberrant

This is just going to be a series of drabbles and really short oneshots. There's gonna be a few though, just look at a dictionary. There's loads of potential for a story there, and as a matter of fact I have 50+ drabbles planned, and I only just broke into E... so this might be a long fic. They're not really connected. Just words from the Dictionary I took as prompts. So here you go :)

Enjoy, review, and please check out my other fics!

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**Aberrant, adj.**  
**- Doing something you normally wouldn't.**

"Tooth, why do the little fairies keep falling when they see me?" Jack asked with a grin as he stooped and scooped up one of the little ladies, who gave another shrill scream before passing out in his hand.

Tooth watched, a blush across her face as she tisked and lifted the fairy from his hands and set her down on a soft pillow to let her gain consciousness again.

"I don't know, I just wish they'd get a grip on it," she muttered, averting her mauve eyes from his icy blue, trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach.

"Get a grip on what?" he asked, watching as other fairies bumped into one another when he grinned at them, making sure to show his teeth. He knew they loved his teeth.

"Jack you're not helping!" the fairy cried, catching another of her mini fairies as she swooned and fell from the air.

"Sorry! Sorry," he chuckled, but clamped his mouth shut to stop more of the girls dropping like flies. "But, um, what do they have to get over?"

Toothiana sighed slightly, and bit her lip as she turned to face the teen she'd liked since she'd first heard about his teeth. Her hands clasped in front of her, and she tried to find an excuse for her fairies erratic behaviour. Jack watched her curiously, and the smile on his face faltered slightly as he looked at how nervous his fellow Guardian was.

"What's wrong?" he asked gently, and she shrugged her shoulders slightly before opening her mouth a little, wondering how she could put it.

"They just really like you," she said after a moment, forcing a smile, but Jack looked sceptical.

"Aren't they, like, extensions of you?" he asked, and the smile was creeping back on his face. The fairy felt mortified, realising she'd forgotten about that titbit of information. And Jack wasn't stupid... telling him the girls liked him and him knowing they were little versions of herself was an indirect way of letting him know she liked him.

"No, I don't mean it like that," she cried, feeling flustered, but Jack just laughed it off, hopped towards her and enveloped her in a hug.

"It explains the hug you gave me back in Burgess," he muttered in her ear, and she flushed again, remembering how close they'd been, and how close they were now. He leaned away from her, looking down slightly at her pink face, and he pursed his lips slightly. "Do _you_ like me?"

"Maybe," she whispered. "What about you?"

"Oh, yeah I like me," he laughed, "I like me a lot. I might like you too."

"Do you not know?" Tooth asked, her mauve eyes shining.

"Ah... well one way to find out right?" he asked, and leaned in towards her, and she found herself frozen on the spot as their lips pressed together. For a second she held her breath, then slowly she kissed him back. And it was short, and sweet, and when they broke apart there was a second when they stared at one another, and simultaneously jumped apart.

"No," she cried. "No, not like that."

"It felt so wrong!" Jack yelled, but doubled over laughing.

"It was like kissing a brother," Tooth giggled, and he nodded in agreement, and they both went off laughing for a good few minutes until it eased and they composed themselves again. There was no awkward pause though, no moment when they both wanted to go running in the opposite direction. Jack merely stood upright and stuck out his hand.

"I like you Tooth, but as a friend."

She clasped hands with him, smiling.

"As a friend. And we don't ever mention this."

"Never."


	2. Abstain

Chapter 2!

Have fun, review please

Enjoy

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**Abstain, n.**  
**-You do not do it, or have it.**

Jamie Bennet sat quietly in his room on his bed, slouched against his pillows reading 'To Kill A Mockingjay'. He didn't particularly like the book, but it was his class assignment and he had to read it to write an essay on it next week. His iPod was blasting Bon Jovi in his ears, and he didn't hear Sophie come in his room.

"Jamie?" she said, but he didn't hear her. The eight year old sighed at her big brother and rolled her eyes, brushing her hair out of her face.

"Jamie!" she shouted, but he still didn't hear her. So the blond took it upon herself to pick up his baseball and throw it at his head as hard as she could. Smirking slightly as it connected she watched as he jumped and flailed around a little bit before falling off the side of his bed. When his head shot up again, the younger girl smiled and waved at him, and deftly dodged the ball as he flung it back at her.

"Sophie?! The hell?" he cried, standing up and dropping the book and his iPod on the bed, rubbing the spot on his head slightly where he could feel a lump already forming. He knew she was only eight, but she had a fairly good arm.

"It's Easter, Jamie. Time for the egg hunt!" she cried happily, jumping up and down before hopping towards him and sitting on his bed. "Time to see Bunny!"

"Um... yeah, about that," the boy started, and he watched as the smile slipped from his little sister's face.

"What?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

"I'm not going this time," he said quietly, and braced himself for her throwing something else at him. But what she did was much worse. Her face fell into an expression of sadness and shock, and she pouted as she stood again, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Why not?" she asked, and the note of hurt in her voice was there for him to hear, and he felt really guilty.

"I have to read this book, Soph, and besides I'm getting too old."

"Too old?!" she cried, looking appalled. "Jamie, you've just turned fifteen!"

"Exactly, I'm fifteen, I need to start growing up."

"G-growing up?" she whispered, and he saw how for a second she looked really scared, and really sad for him.

"Soph, sit down," Jamie told her with a sigh, and sat down himself. She did as she was told, but she refused to look at him, crossing her arms across her chest and sulking with him. "Look, I still believe in Bunny. He's here like every other weekend, I can't _not_ believe in him! And I still believe in North, Tooth, Sandy and Jack. Jack's like my best friend. I just have a lot to do at the moment, so I can't go. I still believe in them."

"Promise?" she asked, still refusing to look at him, but she looked considerably less sulky at him.

"Pinky promise," he chuckled, extending his little finger, which she hooked with her own.

"Alright then," she said, jumping up from the bed and heading for the door. He watched as she went to leave, but she paused as she went to shut the door again behind herself, and looked back at him.

"Jamie?" she asked, and he looked at her with a small smile.

"Yeah?"

"I swear, you stop believing in them, and I'll disown you."


	3. Abstract

Bare in mind that I wrote this at twenty to three in the morning, and I haven't slept properly in five days. Another seven like this and I'll die.

I never said they'd all be good either...

enjoy?

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**Abstract, n.**  
**- Refers to qualities or ideas rather than physical things.**

The little doll cartwheeled across the floor, her icy hair glittering as she smiled and made a perfect landing on her feet, steady and flawless. She looked at him, smiled, blew a kiss then froze again.

He knew that the toys the Yeti made based off this figure wouldn't be as animated as that, but North always loved tinkering with things, adding a spark of magic to his models so he could have fun with them before he sent them out into the workshop to be reproduced and taken out in the hundreds to good boys and girls.

The Russian loved making models that could do the most wonderful things; dance, sing, cartwheel... it was a little sad actually when he saw the toys made from this design and they weren't capable of coming alive like his ice sculptures could. But none-the-less, when the lights on his globe twinkled that little brighter come Christmas day, he knew he'd managed to bring joy to children around the globe, and that was the main thing. To him anyway.

Joy.

Of course the other Guardians had their own tasks. Bunny brought hope, which was key – he had to admit. Toothiana kept their memories safe for them, and without them who knew what thoughts would end up running through their minds in dark times. And Sandy, perhaps the most significant of them all, gave them dreams. Their dreams inspired them and gave them hope, led to realities, led to happiness and joy and the ability to make more memories not only for themselves, but for their families too.

It was disheartening sometimes, when he glanced at the globe and saw a light blink then fade out. And as hard as he stared it didn't come back on, and there was one less person in the world who believed in them all. It was sad, but it seemed that the majority of the times it was part of life.

The lights went out as soon as people stopped being able to see the little things the Guardians brought to the world. When people looked at the first snowflake and didn't feel that leap of happiness in their chests and the excitement Winter brought, and they didn't ponder it as it stuck to the ground to be followed by a million more, they grew up. They weren't able to hold onto the magic, and that was key to belief.

North understood that belief in the Guardians relied on people being open to the ideas of magic. Things happening without an explanation, wondrous little things. As soon as they started writing it off as just another everyday occurrence then it became just that.

As soon as people decided they were going to stop believing, they tended to. And it hurt, because he could remember tucking children in on their couches when they'd snook down to try and see him but had fallen asleep, slipping a rag doll under their arms for them to find in the morning and squeal with delight, and now these children were grown with little ones of their own, thinking it was all just some elaborate plan to get their child to be good – 'otherwise Santa won't come'.

The qualities the Guardians had were what made the world a better place, a nicer place, and he enjoyed his work. Picking up the doll from the floor he set her on his desk and looked at her, considering everything. The qualities they had were easily overlooked. Joy and hope were ideas made to enforce a positive outlook on things. Memories were something thought to be stored in the brain. Some were, but the really important ones were the ones Tooth had. Dreams were what some bug-nutty psychologist said were just emotions stored in the deeper parts of the brain. The base, raw things that made you feel happy or sad. Freud, he thought it was, pulling a face to himself before sighing and leaning back in his chair. Id his ass, Sandy took care of those.

But people weren't able to grasp the fact that what they did was magic, and their qualities and specialities were forgotten about in place of some 'logical' explanation. Because people couldn't grasp the idea that something magical might be the key, they stopped believing. And although it might have been sad at first to see the lights flickering out, he decided to himself that adults weren't able to appreciate what they all did, and he would have to focus more on making sure the younger generations were more able to make note of that magic, take a hold of it, and never let go.


	4. Abyss

You guys realise I only spend about half an hour on each of these right? I think of stuff when I'm drinking coffee or having a smoke.

Anony Mouse, make yourself a bleeding account xD I think you only have to be 13 to make one, and I think it'd be easier to converse that way. Just do it, your parents shouldn't be annoyed about it. And I haven't got anything typed up for my two new fics as of yet, I just have to get other stuff done to get it rolling. And what do you mean test results? Over my brain problems or my mentality problems? :) haha

Anyways, to everyone else, enjoy. Sorry it's short, I'm setting this up for another drabble later on but you'll have to figure out which one it is ;)

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**Abyss, n**  
**A very deep hole**

He was festering.

Sitting alone in his lair, staring at the same four walls and lashing out at anything that came within an arms length of him. Those idiots had beaten him... those self righteous idiots and that bleeding twit Frost had beaten him.

It wasn't like he hadn't thought they could, because he'd always had the inkling that they would fight their hardest when he finally did manage to back them into a corner.

And perhaps implying that he would 'snuff' Jamie out wasn't the best metaphor. It was giving the impression he'd have killed the boy and he wouldn't have, he'd have just scared him so terribly he'd have had no capacity for anything else in his little mind. Which arguably would have been worse than death, as the boy would have been nothing more than a husk of what he was, consumed by fear.

Dragging his fingers through his messed up hair, Pitch looked about the room, taking in the high walls and arching ceiling, the chains suspended from the darkness up there and suspending large black cages above the darkness in the cavern below.

He felt as if he belonged there, hated what he'd been reduced to now – a shadow of what he was. And though he of all people should find that irony amusing, he was simply too weak to enjoy it. Maybe later.

He'd have to think of a new plan. Build himself up again, go about finding belief elsewhere.

Glancing over to one of the nightmares a stallion that had been with him from the very start, he motioned for it to come over. And it did, albeit tentatively. Stopping beside him, he ran his fingers over it's cool nose, sighing slightly at the feel of the black sand, taking in what little strength he could from it.

"Just one tonight," he whispered, and watched as it whinnied and rose into the air, melting into the shadows to appear somewhere in the human world, bringing one restless night to a young child. It would stay undetected, the Guardians wouldn't notice if just one child had a nightmare, compared to the billions out there.

He only needed a little power to tide him over.

And unbeknownst to Pitch, unbeknownst to the Guardians and her older brother, a four year old Sophie Bennet grumbled in her sleep, tossing in her bed as a shadow descended over her.


	5. Acronym

Hey, so another drabble for you guys :)

Anony Mouse, glad you got an account now! :D You'll have to learn how to use it though. If you look down the side panel of your login page, you should see a tab that says 'Private Messaging' and it should have at least a (1) next to it. I sent you a message you loon, welcome to Fanfiction! :D

Anyways, please review, it always makes for a lovely wee read :)

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**Acronym, n.**  
**A work made up of the initial letters of a phrase.**

"What you doing there nipper?" Bunny asked, lounging over Sophie's bed as she curled up next to him, tapping away on her new phone. She'd got one when she turned ten, and recently it was all she ever bothered about.

"Texting," she muttered, not bothering to look at him, still typing away to some girl called 'Candy xoxoxo :)'. The Pooka knew about technology, he had to living in a world where everything progressed so fast. He understood that cell phones were used by humans so they could communicate with one another, but he didn't understand the obsession with them. There wasn't one teenage girl in the world who didn't have one glued to her hand, laughing with her friends. What really got him was when they texted one another when they were sat beside one another! What was the point?

Sometimes he believed that they'd lost the ability to actually talk to one another, and on the odd occasion they did speak it would scare the other witless to actually hear a voice.

Bunny glanced over Sophie's shoulder, prodding her until she sighed and moved her head so he could see what she was doing.

"There's such a thing as privacy you know," she said, but she was grinning, and he grinned back at her.

"Not in this case love," he laughed, before looking at the text, and his face dropped a bit. "What does 'lol' mean?"

"Lol?" she giggled, rolling over and putting her phone down for once. "It means 'laugh out loud'."

"Then why don't you just type that?" Bunny asked, looking at her curiously.

"Because that would be too long, and take up my character limit," Sophie explained, shooting him a look that clearly questioned his intellect. "There are more too, like 'lmao' means laughing my ass off, and 'omg' means oh my god."

"And all texters do this?" Bunny asked, rolling his evergreen eyes.

"Everyone ever texts like this," she nodded, picking her phone up. "'Cept you, because you're dumb and you don't have a phone."

The Pooka rolled over and off the bed, landing on his feet but crouched down as he shot Sophie a reproachful look. But she ignored him and he slyly stuck his tongue out at her.

"You're dumb," he muttered, and tried to ignore her smirk.

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"She's growing up North, and I don't like it," Bunny said quietly as he lounged by the fire, warming his feet after a run through the snow on a particularly frigid day up at the Pole.

"It happens," North sighed, relaxing in his chair. "I don't think she'll stop believing though, she loves you too much," he added with a slight chuckle as he sipped his brandy. The Russian could have probably gone to sleep sat in his chair like that if it weren't for the Winter spirit that launched himself through the door, caught his foot on the top of the lamp and went hurtling into the wall on the other side of the room, landing with a smack on the floor.

North jumped up in shock and surprise, rushing over to Jack to see if he was okay, whereas Bunny rolled about on the floor laughing at the boy.

"Lol," he muttered under his breath, realising that it was a lot easier to say and even between laughs it expressed something, and even added a touch of sadism that he quite liked.

"What- what did you just say?" Jack huffed, standing up while North batted the dirt off him, trying to catch his breath.

"Lol," Bunny said, smirking. "Sophie taught me text language today."

The look Jack gave him was one of shock, and slowly it melted into a grin, and he was laughing too, doubling over and holding onto his knees to stop him toppling over again. Bunny laughed too, and while the pair struggled to control themselves, North stood there looking at them both with an extremely confused expression on his face.

"Lol?" he asked, when they'd calmed down a little.

Needless to say, neither could speak nor stand as they set off laughing again.


	6. Adamant

I told you some of these were short.

I've had a terrible day today, like... really bad. Like, hospital and mental health clinic visits bad.

Enjoy though :)

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**Adamant, adj.**  
**- You are determined not to change your mind.**

"I did not say that," North laughed, shaking his head at Bunny who stared back at him, aghast and at a loss of what to say. The Pooka was stood with his arms stretched out before him, palms upwards and slowly his fingers clenched in to make tight fists, and he lowered his arms so they were at his side again, and he turned to glare at North.

"You know you did, just admit it," he complained, feeling irritated that the Russian was being so stubborn.

"I wouldn't say that Bunny, never have, never will," North said simply as he walked to the fire and threw on another log.

"You totally said Easter was more important than Christmas! We all heard you!" Bunny yelled, losing his patience now, and Tooth had to zip up to him and hush him to make sure he didn't launch for the older Guardian.

"I did not," North cried, looking irritated himself.

"I think you did North," Jack chipped in, lounging back on the couch and though he looked a little uneasy at standing against the man he saw as a mentor, but it was only right to have the truth known.

"Bah, no. But it's obvious Christmas _is_ better than Easter," North argued, and the other Guardians were left stumped as the Russian left the room to get more logs for the fire. Tooth looked around confused.

"He... he did say it, right?" she asked, biting her lip.

"He did, and he knows he did," Bunny sneered, feeling himself getting angrier at the fact that the old bloke was being so stubborn.

"Why is he denying it then?" Jack asked, getting up from the couch and smiling slightly, finding the whole thing amusing.

"Because it's North, and he's awkward," Tooth giggled, and a hush fell over them as the Russian came back into the room, carrying an armful of logs with him.

"Who is awkward?" he asked, dumping them by the fireplace, turning around to Tooth with a small smile and a twinkle in his eye.

"You," she said pointedly, and he looked a little taken aback. "We all know you said Easter was more important that Christmas. Even if it was because of the circumstance, you still did."

For a moment, North merely smiled at them all, a twinkle in his eye. It was obvious he knew he had, it was obvious he was denying it purely because of the rivalry between himself and Bunny, and he chuckled a little.

"I did not."


	7. Anachronism

Hope you enjoy :) Sorry it took so long, had a couple rough days.

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**Anachronism, n.**  
**- Something that belongs, or seems to belong, to another time.**

"So how much do you remember about your past Jack?" Tooth asked, flitting back and forth to give her fairies directions to which teeth they needed to collect. Jack Frost was sat quietly – for once – on one of the platforms that made up the Tooth Palace. He ran a hand through his silky white hair and smiled slightly, recalling the small town where he'd lived with his mother and sister, collecting what memories he could of the times he'd played with his sister, taught her how to climb a tree, gone fishing with her and failed terribly. Saved her life.

"A little bit, it comes back in little bits since I got my memories," he explained, swinging his legs as he sat, holding his staff close to him. "What about you? Where did you grow up?"

Tooth paused in mid flight, for the first time in years thinking about the village she grew up in before she became the Queen of Fairies, after her parents died and she took on the responsibilities of safekeeping the memories of children. Her own memories flickered before her eyes, children laughing and playing with her, keeping her safe, accepting her.

"I grew up in a small village," she started, turning to the boy sat quietly, watching her curiously, her mauve eyes zoning in on his icy blues. "The houses were made of clay and straw, the families were close... everyone knew one another and it was nice for the most part. I remember my father rearing cattle and my mother taught me to sew."

"Sounds nice," Jack said quietly, smiling a little.

"Hmm... sometimes I miss it. I think I'm a lot like my mother you know."

"Well, she must have been nice then," the Winter spirit said, clasping his hands as he jumped down from the platform and tiptoed along the connecting arches.

"She was," Tooth replied, smiling fondly. "She was kind and caring, and she liked to take care of everyone in the village. If people didn't have enough food then she'd give them extra grain, or if someone was sick she'd help heal them. She was such a mother hen."

"Kind of like you then," Jack laughed, and Tooth turned to watch him walk along the arches, feeling a little nervous about it even though she knew if he slipped off he'd simply sly to safety. She guessed she was a lot like her mother. Even though the woman was kind and gentle, she had a fierce nature about her too. Her father was brave and kind hearted. She was a lot like both of them, she knew. Part of her longed then to go back to her childhood, to be able to have her parents hold her again.

"I suppose," she mused, shooing one of her fairies off to fetch her the box her parents had given her filled with her own baby teeth. "Does it make me old fashioned if I'm like my parents?"

Jack paused as he balanced across the arch, his toes brushing lightly against the shimmering tiles beneath them, and he looked slowly to the fairy who took a box from one of her helpers and held it close to her chest. He couldn't imagine how she was old fashioned at all, she was just a very caring being. And she never seemed to look out of place anywhere. Even in dark places she looked like she was the light that illuminated the place.

"I don't think being kind and caring makes you old fashioned," he reasoned, standing still and turning to her. "I think it makes you kind and caring."

"You really think so?" the woman asked quietly, looking down at the ruby box.

"Sure, but if you still feel old fashioned we could wrap you in aluminium foil."

Tooth shot her friend and fellow Guardian a curious glance, finding herself smiling slightly at how preposterous it sounded, how random it was.

"And what would that accomplish?" she giggled, flying a little closer to him and he smirked up at her.

"Well, we could make you look like a cyborg fairy or something, so you'd look futuristic and sciency and all that. You wouldn't feel old fashioned any more."

"A cyborg fairy?" Tooth laughed, so hard in fact that she was finding it hard to keep her balance in the air.

"The very first. You'd be a revolutionary! Toothiana, the very first cyborg fairy."


	8. Anthem

I broke out of my mini funk, I'm writing again :)

Also, in a week I'm going to Spain! Yay me!

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**Anthem, n.**  
**- A hymn or song written for a special occasion.**

"You know, if you'd agreed to help us from the get go then I reckon we'd have nipped this whole Pitch thing in the bud before he got going," Bunny mused, looking around the Pole as they all helped pick papers and toys up from the floor. It seemed Pitch had visited here too and caused some havoc before he went to Burgess and got his ass whooped.

"He was with us the whole time Bunny!" Tooth cried, but she grinned a little anyway. She knew the Pooka was only teasing the teen. "He helped us a lot."

"Yeah," Jack agreed, brushing his snowy hair from his face and casting his icy eyes up to the rabbit. "Besides, it's not really my fault I didn't say yes in the first place."

"Really? Then whose fault is it?" bunny chuckled, looking up from the stack of paper he'd collected, passing it to one of the yeti who thanked him gruffly.

"Well, yours of course, all of you," Jack said matter of factly, and the other Guardians stopped in what they were doing and stared at the boy in shock.

"Ours?!" Bunny cried, feeling his temper rise again, his fists clenching. "Listen mate, I know you might have helped a heap, but don't go blaming us cos you're a hard head."

Jack merely smirked, so North stepped in before Bunny could knock his teeth out.

"What do you mean, 'our fault'? Is it because we are – how you say – cooped up, bribing kids?"

The Russian crossed his arms, looking very similar to how Bunny looked at that moment, while Sandy stood to the side awkwardly and Tooth hovered in the air looking positively crestfallen.

"No, no that's not it," Jack shrugged, stooping to pick up another paper, but North reached out and grabbed his shoulder and stopped him, narrowing his eyes as he looked at the white haired teen.

"Then what?"

Jack glanced about at all the Guardians looking at him, a small smile creeping across his face.

"I thought after so long of being Guardians you might have thought that Mani would pick another at some point. You should have put words to the fanfare, it would've made a good song."

There was a pause, and North was the first to burst out laughing.

"You said no because there were no words?!" he cried, doubling over as his stomach hurt.

"You said no because there were no words?" Bunny repeated, although he sounded considerably less pleased, his brows furrowing and his fists clenching again. Tooth and Sandy looked confused.

"I... I don't understand," the woman said eventually, landing beside them all and rubbing her neck lightly. "Because there weren't any words?"

"Yeah, you know, like lyrics. Everyone loves a good song, I figured over the years you could have at least made a chorus or hook or something."

"To trumpets?" North chuckled, wiping a stray tear from his eye.

"Probably would've needed some work, but you had ages to figure it out," Jack reasoned, and Bunny walked away shaking his head.

"We didn't dodge the bullet," he muttered as he passed Sandy, who was still staring at the boy, confused. Jack shrugged them off, turning to the small group of elves who had gathered around his feet, and he grinned at them all.

"What do you say? Would it have been better with words?" he asked them, and they all nodded enthusiastically. At this North seemed to calm very quickly, and shook his head at Jack, raising his hands in warning.

"Jack don't-" he started, but his words fell on deaf ears, and Jack continued talking to the elves.

"Reckon you can sing something?" he asked them, and all at once their tiny mouths opened and the most horrendous din emanated from them. It sounded like cats screeching, like fingernails clawing down a white board. In fact, it sounded worse and instantly the group of Guardians clamped their hands over their ears for the few moments it took them to get the elves to shut up.

And when they dispersed, Jack looked up in shock at North.

"I didn't think it'd be that bad," he said quietly, his eyes round as dinner plates, looking horrified at the noise that had come out of the little beings.

"Yes well... that's why there are no words."


	9. Arcane

These are taking me longer to write and they're becoming shorter. Sorry about that guys, my mental health ain't so awesome right now so I'm a bit sluggish :p I'll be tip-top again in no time, I just need to get out of my rut :)

Enjoy!

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**Arcane, adj.**  
**- Mysterious and difficult to understand**

Jack didn't mind the cold, at all, but North seemed to like to have a fire roaring in every large room of the Pole to keep the place heated. In fact, the fires made him feel uncomfortable, the heat made him itch and he hated standing close to them. It was only because he was looking at a large pastel coloured picture hung above the fireplace that he was so close.

It was North, aged as he was now, shaking hands with one yeti and there were a ton more behind that one. It must have been when he'd made a deal with them or something before they'd come to work for him.

In fact, why did they work for him? How did it come to be that North even met the yeti's?

Glancing around the Pole, Jack Frost was suddenly struck with a whole host of questions. How did the Pole come to be? He knew the Warren had already been there, and a whole tribe of Pooka had roamed about before Pitch reduced them to just Bunny. Tooth had told him all about the Palace belonging to the Sisters of Flight before she'd become the Fairy Queen. Sandy just went about as he pleased, and he stayed mainly in Burgess because that had always been his home.

But he knew nothing about North before he became a Guardian.

He didn't know what North did, because he half expected the man had a youth. You weren't born old, after all. Had he always been a toymaker? What was he before a Guardian.

He remembered North talking to him after Sandy's death, saying he did not know what Jack was in his past life, but in this life he was a Guardian.

Well what was North in his past life?

And how did he get so good with swords? In media and in the world children and society alike had the idea that Santa Clause was this jolly old man, quite overweight, but overall quite timid in all respects. Gentle, kind, caring.

Not that North wasn't caring and kind, but he highly doubted any parent told their children that Santa had tattoo's and swords. Hell, would parents know?!

North had said he was mysterious, but he'd always chalked it up to him being able to sneak in houses in the middle of the night, leave gifts and get out of there undetected. He'd never thought it would be down to him actually having a mysterious past. The more he thought about it though, the less sense it made. Why would a guy who made toys and acted so childish most of the time need to be sword trained? And it would be a strange hobby, at the very least. And where did the yeti come from? And the elves...

"Jack, are you okay?" came a rumbling voice from the door, and the snowy haired teen turned to see North stood there looking a little concerned. "You've not moved for ten minutes, normally you are testing the toys."

"Just thinking," Jack replied, shifting himself away from the fire with a small sigh of relief, feeling cold seep through him again.

"Thinking what?" North questioned, his head tilting slightly to the side, his bright blue eyes twinkling with curiosity.

"what were you before you became a Guardian?" the boy asked outright, curling his arms around his staff and leaning heavily on it, smiling slightly. At first North looked a little shocked at the question, but then he laughed, his head rolling back as it burst from him, and he looked back to the boy in front of him with a small smile.

"I wondered when you would ask," he said, a wide smile plastered over his face. "It's a long story."


	10. Ardent

So this one is a little more sad, and I'll probably post another one up in a few hours too, because I've got some of my writing mojo back.

Also, I have a new poll on my profile, so could you check it out pretty please :3

Enjoy!

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**Ardent, adj.**  
**- Full of enthusiasm and passion**

"Jack! Come on, wake up!"

The brown haired teenage boy mumbled and shoved his head a little further under his pillow, trying to block out the sound of his little sister shouting him to get up. It would only work for so long, he knew that. Soon enough she'd run in and simply jump on hi-

"Jack!" came a cry as something heavy landing on his back, and the eighteen year old groaned and rolled over, effectively knocking his sister onto the floor again as he sat up and looked at her groggily. She didn't seem to mind though, she just beamed up at him with that toothy smile that was just like his, her brown eyes twinkling. "You promised," she reminded him, and he nodded, managing a small smile himself.

"I did, didn't I?" he yawned, stretching and pushing his blanket off him, grimacing at the sudden cold that nipped his skin.

"Come on Jack, you need to get up now," Emma demanded, rushing from the room so her brother could change, leaving him to roll his eyes and drag a hand through his messed up bed hair. The brown locks slid through his fingers as he yanked the tangles out, squeezing his brown eyes shut as he summoned up the energy to actually go about his day.

He was teaching Emma to ice skate today.

And normally he'd have jumped at the chance, but today felt different somehow. It seemed more... important.

So he stripped down and washed himself in the basin in the corner of the room, then dragged on some warmer clothing. Brown cotton pants, a white shirt, a brown cloak to keep the heat in.

At breakfast he noticed how his mother had cooked up something larger than normal, bacon and eggs – which on their income was a treat and a half. He thanked her and placed a kiss on her cheek, taking a small pleasure in how she smiled slightly. Their father had died a year ago on the docks a few miles away, working for pittance. He'd been crushed by freight, which had been traumatic for them all. Making his mother smile was the best thing he could do. And he noticed as he ate that she kept looking at him curiously, worry flickering in her eyes.

It seemed only Emma that didn't seem different this morning, her eyes shining with excitement, and he had to admire that in her, because she'd told him before Winter set in that she was scared of ice. Scared she'd fall through and he wouldn't be there to save her.

"Jack, will you hurry up?" she snapped, and he looked up at her across the table, head resting in her hands, elbows propped on the table, her ice-skates pointedly placed on the table in front of her as if serving as a reminder of what he was meant to be doing today.

"Give me five minutes," he chuckled, but wolfed down his breakfast and stood, taking his plate to his mother who smiled a little at him.

"It's the most excited she's been since your father passed," she said quietly, taking his plate and putting it in the sink with the other dishes.

"Well, I'll take care of her," he chuckled, hugging her slightly before stepping away. "Best be going before she gets angry."

"I will not get angry!" Emma interjected angrily, too young to understand the irony of it all.

"Alright, alright, come on then," Jack chuckled, and Emma ran to him and grabbed his hand before pulling him out of the house.

"Take care!" their mother shouted after them, her green eyes shining with worry, brown hair falling in wisps in front of her face as she watched her two children set out into the snow.

"We will!" Jack cried, looking back once, then again. Something told him to look again and capture an image of that small smile she gave him, and not forget it.

Nerves were bundling in his stomach as they reached the lake, where Emma was practically dancing she was so impatient to get on the ice and learn. Then she stopped, and looked up at him.

"You won't let me fall through will you?" she asked, her eyes clouding with worry.

"Course not, I won't let that happen," the older boy said soothingly, patting her on the head with a small smile. "Anyway, don't jinx it!"

"Oh quiet Jack," Emma laughed, stepping onto the ice shakily and moving forward slowly, shooting an ecstatic look back at him as he followed her barefooted onto the ice, swinging his own skates around in his hands. Just as she got to the middle he watched with a small smile as she whooped and raised her arms in victory, her smile wide and proud, until a crack resounded around the clearing.


	11. Arduous

Said I'd post another one up :)

Check out my poll please, and enjoy!

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**Arduous, adj.**  
**- Tiring and needing a lot of effort**

North grumbled as he sat down at his desk, sighing slightly as he pulled his mug of coffee closer and slipped a hand into his inside pocket for the hip flask he knew was there and added a generous helping of vodka to the coffee.

He might be Russian, but that didn't mean he didn't appreciate what the Irish did.

And he needed it for the next few days, pulling a stack of papers in front of him he started going through all the names of the Naughty list.

He hated the Naughty list. It was needed, it was necessary, but it didn't mean he liked it. What could he possibly find attractive about prospective candidates for the list, children who would not get toys and would instead get coal? He had to go through every name and review what they had done to see if they were definitely on the list, or if they just needed to be monitored to see if their behaviour improved and they could perhaps redeem themselves.

Tommy Aarons, a seven year old boy was a prospect for the Naughty list for... taking his sisters' doll and breaking it. Reading into it however, North realised breaking it was an accident, and he was currently saving his pocket money to buy her a new doll. Sure, taking the toy in the first place was a bad thing to do, but he was trying to make up for it. He'd be on the good list if he made up for what he did.

Francesca Bowlers, ten years old, smokes cigarettes she steals from her parents and shot the neighbours cat with an air riffle. It saddened him to read that, remembering three years back when Francesca was on the good list. That was before her older brother died and she wound up hanging out with a group of older teens and getting into trouble. Naughty list.

After fifty four names, North felt drained both emotionally and physically. He didn't know how some children could be so cruel, and they'd not ever started in the world properly...

Leon Farris, stabbed another boy in the eye with a pencil. Naughty.

Jessica Riches, killed her hamster because she couldn't get sweets. Definitely Naughty.

The list went on and on, and with each name North wrote on the list, the sadder he felt until he had to physically make himself put the pen down and leave the desk for a little while, walk around the work shop and clear his head.

As he went around and examined toy barns, he realised that sometimes the job of being Santa Clause wasn't the best in the world. Seeing so many children were so horrible, and if they couldn't see the wonder in life and enjoy it, be good and help keep that wonder going, then what was the point really? Although when he did the Nice list next month, he knew his mood would pick up again and he'd see the worth in the job again, his faith would be restored a little.

Each year it got harder, it seemed in a world where all they knew was war and violence it was getting harder to push past that and bring the balance with peace and love.

His blue eyes looked up at the globe, where billions of lights twinkled and glittered. It was sad to think that quite a lot of those lights were children who were so consumed with hate that before Christmas even came around they'd stop believing, move on to other things to keep their minds occupied.

Then again... the brighter lights shone through, put those Naughty lights to shame, and with a small smile North consoled himself with the thought that if enough of those Nice children could keep their belief, or even pass on their own values, then they'd make the world a fractionally nicer place to live in.


	12. Awhile

This is the final A! Haha, on to the B's, and I have a feeling there's gonna be a hell of a lot of oneshots and drabbles if I keep up like this.

That being said, I hope you enjoyed my exploration into this particular letter of the alphabet, and you'll hopefully enjoy the next one. I can tell you this, the next word is Balk.

And please check out my poll, I'm just throwing ideas around in my head and I'm not sure I should go for it...

Enjoy!

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**Awhile, adj**  
**- For a short time.**

"What's wrong snowflake?" Bunny asked, jumping over to where Jack was sat in the Warren and poking him in the back of the head. The teen swatted at Bunny's hand, but didn't turn to look at him or say a word. It was two weeks till Easter, and Jack had begged and pleaded to be able to come and paint eggs with him, because he had nothing else to do. It took Bunny a while to decide he could trust the boy not to freeze and break everything, and was still a bit sore over last year when he'd disappeared and all of the eggs had been destroyed.

But in all honesty, the fact that last Easter had been a failure and he'd lost more or less all belief from the kids of the world had taken the wind out of his sails. He needed this Easter to be a success and if that meant recruiting Jack Frost of all people then so be it.

"Frost, what's the matter?" he tried again, opting to sit beside the teen this time and look at him properly rather than prod the information out of him.

"I just... thanks. For letting me help, ya know?" the boy muttered after a moment, his eyes darting to see the expression on Bunny's face as he said it.

"Why are you so grateful?" the Pooka asked, suddenly suspicious.

"I just am," Jack huffed, jumping down from the rock the two of them were sat on before he walked down a dirt track to where the little egglets were running around waiting to be painted.

"Come on Frost, spill the beans," Bunny called, chasing after him and grabbing hold of the back of his hood and whirling him around.

Jack rolled his bright blue eyes and folded his arms, looking increasingly annoyed as Bunny scrutinised him. Then his pissed off front dropped, he looked a little sheepish and refused to maintain eye contact with the rabbit.

"I just appreciate the fact that you guys want me around, alright?" he huffed, staring at the ground. "I mean, nobody's ever wanted me around, or been bothered about me... now you guys do, and... yeah."

Bunny felt a little startled at this sudden confession from the newest Guardian, and though he felt sorry for the kid he found himself smiling slightly. He knew what it was like to be invisible. And it had hurt when for a few hours kids couldn't see him and didn't believe in him. The Pooka couldn't imagine how it felt having to go three hundred years feeling like that, and slowly he reached out and placed his hand on Jack's shoulder.

"Listen mate, I know you've had it rough," he started, and Jack looked up from under his bangs to see Bunny smiling at him. "I know it's been hard going so long without people seeing ya."

"Right, and?"

"Well... you got a family now. North, Tooth, Sandy and me, we're all your family, and you ain't gonna be alone again."

The moment felt overly touchy for both of them, and they grinned awkwardly at one another before Jack looked around for something else to talk about or do, only having the egglets running about their feet to motion to, making the older Guardian chuckle.

"Eggs," Jack muttered, and they both laughed in earnest. Once they calmed down enough, Bunny shook his head and crossed his own arms, glancing down at the white haired boy.

"No, it's got to be said. In a few years from now, and I'm talking hundreds of years, maybe thousands, you'll still have us, and the time you were alone won't seem like so much in comparison."

"Thousands of years stuck with you?" Jack laughed, grinning coyly. "I should've said no and dodged the bullet, eh?"

"You know what Frost, I swear I thought the very same thing... glad to have you though, good to have a punch bag."

The pair smiled at one another, and it was obvious Jack felt a lot better about himself and the fact that he now had people to go to. They set off into the Warren, collecting eggs and sorting them out for painting, and while they were sat watching the colourful creations run through the flowers while plain ones followed for the same painting process, Jack turned and looked up at Bunny, pursing his thin lips.

"Don't tell the others about this... they'll feel bad they didn't get in on the moment," he said, nudging his friend with his elbow.

"You think I'm really gonna tell them I was nice to you Jack? I have an image to keep up," Bunny replied, punching Jacks arm softly, grinning at the teen and winking slightly.


	13. Balk

THE FIRST OF THE B'S!

Anyways, I'm not going to be posting again for a couple days, I'm going to be in Spain!

Yay me! so check out my other fics if you want, and pelase check the poll in my bio and vote if you haven't done so already.

Thanks guys, enjoy!

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**Balk, v**  
**- You object to something and may refuse to do it**

"I'm not eating them mom!" the ten year old cried, brushing his brown bangs from his face before dropping his forehead down on the table, grumbling to himself.

Jackson Overland pouted as his mother bustled around the kitchen finishing their dinner, putting the steamed fish on a plate to set in the middle of the table, while she dished the vegetables out between four plates.

"Jack, you'd better do what mom says," Emma sang, four years old and always doing as her mommy said. Jack shot her a dirty look, and she shut up immediately, while their father laughed and rubbed his knuckled lightly on Jack's head.

"Hey!" the boy shouted, swatting his dads hand away, but grinning up at the man. They were the spitting image of one another, his father just being noticeably older, with flecks of white peppering his dark hair already.

"You'll do as your mother tells you," he said gruffly, ruffling his sons shaggy hair.

"I don't even like them though," he sighed, staring down at the plate his mother set in front of him, grimacing at the broccoli there on his plate. "They taste like dirt."

"Jack, I've cleaned them," his mother snapped, sweeping her brown hair from her face as she took a seat beside her husband, smiling slightly at him as he took her hand, then snatched at her sons. "Why don't you say it?"

Jack sucked in a breath and sat upright, taking Emma's hand and closing his eyes.

"Grace!" he cried, letting go of his mothers hand and reaching for a slice of bread, but she snatched his hand back and looked at him sternly, ignoring how Emma sat in her own seat giggling.

"Properly," she warned, and he shrank a little under her glare. He didn't want to be sent to bed without supper after all.

"Lord," he started grudgingly, "bless this meal and those who are about to receive it. Amen."

"Amen," everybody around the table echoed, and Jack looked tentatively up to his mother to see her smiling down warmly at him, and he felt a little more at ease, although he still didn't want to eat his vegetables.

"They're going to taste like dirt," Jack muttered under his breath, which made his mother drop her cutlery to the table with a clatter as she rounded on him.

"Jackson, do you know what happens when children don't eat their vegetables?" she asked sharply, and he looked up at her with a blank expression.

"No, what?"

"They become sick, because they don't have the goodness in them, and then because they're sick they get scared and the Bogeyman steals you away in the night to turn you into a shadow. Now do you want that Jackson?"

"No mom," he whispered, looking down at his plate again.

"So even if they taste like dirt, you're going to eat them, because there is no way on God's given earth I'm losing my baby boy."

"I'm not a baby," Jack huffed, but a small smile played on his lips as he shovelled his carrots into his mouth, and lo and behold, they did not taste like dirt. Rather, they tasted like carrots.

As the family ate their meal, they didn't notice the shadowed figure in the window, or the golden eyes watching them, and as Jack and Emma bickered over what had been said at Sunday school, Pitch Black smiled to himself.

He was being pushed further and further into the shadows, his name tarnished and trodden into the dirt. But stories like the mother's were keeping him alive, and even if it wasn't completely right, there was a hint of truth behind her words, and it gave him a small thrill to think that the little boy he was watching now had thoughts of the Bogeyman running through his young mind.

Pitch watched him shudder, feeding from the fears the boy had of a dark man snatching him away, and he shovelled his food into his mouth a little faster.

Something told the Nightmare King that this Overland boy was one to watch, because if his mother's words could strike a sliver of fear into the boy, then Pitch could feed from it. He'd definitely keep an eye on this one.


	14. Beguile

I had a good time in Spain :) got back today and sat down to write, almost like I never left lol

Enjoy the shot!

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**Beguile, v.**  
**- You are tricked into doing something**

"Sandy? Can I talk to you?" Jack asked quietly, sitting down on the cloud of golden sand beside the little man as he spread the dreams around the small town they were hovering over. Sandy cast him a sideways glance, taking in the crestfallen expression on his face and how the normally excitable and trouble making teen seemed shy and reserved. The dream master nodded slightly, looking back to his work, creating more dreams to send out to children.

"The thing is... you know when you were gone, when Pitch was trying to take over?" Jack continued, and Sandy nodded grimly, the sting of the black sand still very vivid in his memory. "Something happened... have you been told?"

At this, the smaller man stopped his work, trusting the sand to find it's own way to children while he gave Jack his full attention. North had mentioned briefly that Jack had betrayed them in a way at Easter while he had been gone, but he hadn't really gone into detail. So he shrugged slightly, sitting down and crossing his legs neatly in front of him, listening.

"I was taking Sophie back to bed, 'cos she got into the Warren, yeah?" Sandy nodded. "Well, I heard a voice, and I recognised it, so I followed it."

The smaller man nodded, understanding why Jack would do that. He knew now about the boy's past, about him dying to save his sister and he thought it was very admirable, and had a deep respect for the boy for doing that. But he didn't know what Jack was talking about now.

"I found Pitch's lair..." the white haired boy mumbled, and Sandy felt his attention intensify as more information was coming out. "I... the voice was coming from my memory box, and it was my sister and when I realised they were my memories I wanted to get them but I felt bad. So I tried to stop Pitch, and he... he told me my fears."

A question mark conjured itself above Sandy's head, and Jack gulped slightly as he went on.

"He said that no matter what I did you guys would never accept me, and I'd never be good enough and I would always mess things up," he explained, and Sandy shook his head vigorously. He'd always liked Jack. The dream master had seen him over the course of his three hundred years being a Winter Spirit and always loved how Jack ran after his dream sand, look at the different dreams he was making. He'd been a bit of company for the boy when he had nobody else otherwise. Of course his own duties had taken up the majority of his time, but he always intentionally sent streams of the sand past Jack when they did meet, because it always seemed to make the kid smile, and that was important to Sandy. Jack was – in effect – just a kid, and he'd taken the oath to protect children and make them happy. That included Jack.

"It was how I felt... anyway, I chased him around for a bit, but he kept hiding in shadows and stuff. And then eventually he threw the box to me and told me I'd done something wrong. Then I turned up in the Warren and everything was destroyed by the nightmares."

Sandy felt himself deflate a little bit, feeling terrible for the boy. It sounded as if Pitch had tricked him and stalled him whilst the nightmares wrecked Easter. He didn't know the whole situation, but from Jack's point of view it was a lot different than the brief North had given him.

"It made it all look like my fault... when I found Bunny, Tooth and North they saw the memory box and assumed I'd made a deal with Pitch to get my memories as long as I didn't stop him."

At this the small golden man reached out and took Jack's hand, squeezing it lightly to show him some support. He believed the kid... but he was wondering why he was telling him all of this. He should have told the others this right away.

So he created flickering images above his head, each of the other three Guardians, a box of teeth, Pitch. He was asking if Jack had told the others this story, and he bit his lip.

"I tried... Tooth listened, and I think she believes me. I don't think North does, and Bunny just won't listen at all."

Sandy felt a bit disheartened when he heard that. Of course Tooth would believe him, she gave everyone a chance and would listen to any story. She was a kind heart, and if she was sure people were telling the truth then she would believe them. Sandy didn't worry about what Tooth thought, because she would see the truth in the story and trust Jack.

It was North and Bunny he was most worried about, because there was no reason they shouldn't listen and trust him. The dream master knew Jack and North had developed a father son kind of bond, and if North was going to be true to that relationship they'd formed then he should listen to Jack and believe what he was said.

As for Bunny, the Pooka and Jack were like brothers, and as much as they might protest it he'd seen them laugh and joke and knew if given half a chance they would be thick as thieves.

"Will you help me tell them? Because they'll... um... listen to you? Metaphorically of course, you don't actually speak do you?" the boy laughed, and it was good to hear that chuckle in his voice again. So Sandy nodded, smiling, rising up again so he floated above his cloud, and Jack stayed sat there watching him.

"Thanks Sandy."


	15. Belittle

Possibly one of my shortest yet, but I'm extremely proud of this one :) updates won't be as frequent guys, I'm working on a big fic for Rise of the Guardians. It's gonna be called 'Broken Heartstrings Bleed The Blues', and I'm putting a lot into it. Some of the topics hit home.

Anyways, enjoy! And if you haven't checked out the poll please do. It's just an idea, but yeah :)

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**Belittle, v**  
**- Made to seem unimportant**

"Jamie, where's the carrots?" Sophie screamed up the stairs, and her twenty one year old brother appeared at the top of the stairs, in desperate need of a shave and he stared groggily back at her.

"Why?" he asked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and making his way downstairs. He was just back from college for Spring Break and all he'd done was sleep and procrastinate over his assignments and sneak Pippa into his room to do things that made Sophie bury her head under her pillow all night with her iPod blaring in her ears.

"Bunny's coming after supper," she explained, crossing her arms over her chest and narrowing her green eyes up at him.

"Seriously?" he scoffed, trudging through to the kitchen and pulling out some cereal and a bowl. "Aren't you a bit old for that?"

"No," Sophie said indignantly, sitting down at the table next to Jamie as he poured corn flakes into a bowl and drowned them in milk. "Jamie, you still hang around with Jack, don't you?"

"Sometimes, but... ya know, he's younger than me now," Jamie shrugged. "I have my own stuff to do."

"He's over three hundred years old, and what stuff? All you do is eat, sleep and have sex with Pippa. And by the way, I hope you're using protection. Mom and dad want grandbabies but not any time soon."

"Shut up Soph," Jamie snapped, shoving his spoon in his mouth. "Besides," he continued with a full mouth, and Sophie leaned back to avoid spittle. "It's getting... too childish."

"He's the Guardian of fun, and you used to be best friends," Sophie argued, and Jamie shot her an apologetic look.

"Look... I still like him, and I still believe in him, but I need to grow up ya know? And... well so do you. It's not like it's important is it?"

"I'm only fifteen, and of course they're important!" she burst, flicking her blond hair out of her eyes and glaring at her big brother.

"Yeah, but you're having a tea party with the Easter Bunny," Jamie scoffed, rubbing the stubble on his chin and leaning back in his chair.

"I'd invite him for dinner if mom and dad wouldn't freak out at the sight of a six foot rabbit sat at the table, but they kind of would, so I kind of can't!" she snapped, standing up abruptly and storming to the kitchen cabinet, pulling out some carrots she figured might have been in there, secretly glad she was right.

"Sophie, I'm not saying it to be mean, I just... we're getting older, we're not kids are we?"

"You don't have to be a kid to believe, Jamie," she reminded him, turning her head to look back at him sadly.

"You're just being childish Soph, you'll grow up eventually."

"Grow up, but I won't grow old. Not like you're doing. I'm going to believe forever."


	16. Bemoan

So, the newest instalment, and I'll probably actually post another one later on. I'm feeling creative tonight :)

Have fun! Please review!

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**Bemoan, v**  
**- To express sorrow or dissatisfaction with something**

His mom had picked his glasses out for him again, and as he sat quietly in his room, he glared at them, hating them silently.

It was bad enough that he had to wear glasses, people at school calling him 'four-eyes' and 'blind' and whatever else they could think of. But glasses with thick red rims, big square frames, something his grandmother would pick out for herself in the sixties! Even she wouldn't wear something this tacky now, it was twenty thirteen for heavens' sake!

Sighing, Monty put them on and looked in the mirror that was hung on the wall. They looked like something from history, and he half believed if he went to the museum with them they'd be taken as an archaeological artefact.

He could hope so anyway...

But of course, he couldn't take them off, because then he couldn't see. As if to challenge himself, he slipped the specs off and squinted at the blurry, distorted reflection in the mirror. He couldn't walk around without the glasses, he'd end up breaking his neck.

Groaning he put them back on and threw himself backwards on his bed, smacking his head on the wooden headboard and crying out in pain as he eventually hit the pillows.

"Are you okay?" came a concerned, feminine voice, and he opened his eyes to see Tooth hovering over him, her hand reaching out to pull him upright into a sitting position again and she sat beside him. "Here, let me look."

He tilted his head forward and she brushed her fingers over the growing bump on his head.

"Aw, it doesn't look too bad," she said soothingly, sitting back and smiling at the twelve year old. "So what made you throw yourself at a solid object?"

Monty chuckled slightly in spite of himself, shaking his head slightly.

"I hate my glasses," he explained, gesturing to the monstrous square things covering half of his face. "I just... guess I got frustrated."

"Why, I think they're lovely," Tooth said gently, tapping her finger atop the rims.

"You're just saying that," the blond boy scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Cos you have to, cos you're the Tooth Fairy and you're meant to make me happy."

"I am not just saying that Montgomery," she said sharply, and Monty felt himself flush red as she used his full name. "I think they are lovely."

"Why?" he asked, looking at her skeptically.

"Because, they make your blue eyes look brighter," she said happily, and he stared into her mauve eyes and felt his cheeks burn slightly. "You look more intelligent, you look friendlier... and let's face is Monty," she said quietly, leaning in towards him.

"What?" he asked, cocking his head to the side.

"It shouldn't matter what you look like, it doesn't change who you are. When I was your age I suddenly sprouted feathers, and I've never regretted it. You are an intelligent, kind boy with or without them, but they help you see better, and that's important."

"You... you really think that?" he asked, biting his lip.

"I really do, and I'd bet my left wing anyone with half a brain can see that too," she giggled, planting a soft kiss on his head, and he closed his eyes, feeling shocked. When he opened his eyes, she was gone, and he was left feeling relieved, happy, and his stomach was fluttering.

It was safe to say Monty had a bit of a crush on Tooth.


	17. Beware

I like this one a lot too :)

Thanks for the reviews guys, how mental is it that we're over 50 already?! And we're still in the B's!

I hope you're all going to stick around until Z. I'm thinking I might go A-L in this one then M-Z on another fic, make it shorter. Or maybe just lob them all on in this one, cos then it'll be easier to find...

Thoughts, lots of thoughts. Hope you enjoy :)

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**Beware, v**  
**- A warning that something might be dangerous**

A fifteen year old Jamie ran up the stairs to his sisters' room, and knocked quickly on the door. He'd just heard something from Jack that made his blood run cold, and he had to be sure of it, so asking Sophie if it was true or not would set his mind at ease.

"What do you want?" Sophie asked, coming out of her room into the hall.

"Jack... Jack just t-told me that you're not scared of Pitch," Jamie wheezed, having run all the way from the lake to his home, and he was struggling to catch his breath.

"... right, and?" she asked, and Jamie stared wide eyed at his nine year old sister.

"Well, are you not?" he asked, standing upright and leaning against the wall, looking down at her curiously.

"No, not really," she shrugged, her blond hair falling into her eyes and she blew it out again lazily. "Should I be?"

"Well, yeah!" the brunette cried, looking appalled.

"Why though? He makes bad dreams, and everyone had bad dreams... even adults. But that's just in my head and it can't hurt me. If I ever saw him face to face then me not being scared of him will be a good thing because he can't hurt me then. He can only get to people if they're scared, and I'm not."

Jamie gaped at Sophie, wondering how he could possibly respond to that, and in the time it took for him to think of something, his mouth open in wonder Sophie had rolled her eyes half a dozen times and chipped in before he had a chance.

"You'll catch flies dummy," she giggled, poking him in the stomach.

"Hey," he swatted her away. "Look just... okay, don't be scared of him, just be careful okay?" he asked, rubbing the spot she'd poked on his stomach, as he turned to go back downstairs. "You're getting mean."

"You still love me," she laughed, and he grinned at her for the first time since he'd banged on the door.

"Course I do, someone has to."

Sophie watched as he walked downstairs, sighing slightly in relief as she slipped back through her bedroom door and shut it behind her, turning to look into golden eyes. She smiled at the dark man who was sat quietly on her bed, watching her, and she wandered over to sit beside him.

"I thought he was never going to leave," she groaned, and he chuckled slightly before reaching for his mug and drinking deeply from it, grimacing at the fact that the tea was too sweet but not saying anything about it. No matter what she did, Pitch couldn't bring himself to correct her.

"Do you really think that?" he asked, setting the cup down again and resolving to make it seem like he forgot about it because he was too busy talking to her. She wouldn't be offended by that, rather than him saying he didn't want it.

"Think what?" the blond girl asked, picking up one of her teddies, a stuffed horse, and making it gallop across her bed.

"That I can't hurt you?" he asked, taking the teddy as she passed it to him and making it gallop back around to her, shaking his head slightly at the fact he was actually _playing_ with a child.

"Well, you probably could if you wanted to, but I trust you not to," she said, taking the teddy back of him and cuddling it close to her chest.

"I wouldn't," he confirmed, finding himself smiling slightly.

And it was true. Years ago he'd stood above the little girl and given her nightmares as a petty revenge against the Guardians, showing that even though they were still there he'd managed to worm his way into the lives of one of the children they cared for most dearly. But then last year she'd started awake and had stared at him with those big green eyes, and he'd been unable to move, or shrink back into the shadows.

She'd seen him, and in that moment he'd never given her another nightmare.

He couldn't do that to his first believer.


	18. Blemish

Sorry it took so long to update, but here is a wee insight to North and his reindeer :)

Enjoy!

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**Blemish, n.**  
**- a mark that spoils the appearance of something**

North was a proud man, and one of the many things he loved was his sleigh. It was one of the only things in the world that if it was mentioned in passing to a child they would think of him and that joy and wonder would return to them as they thought about what they'd gotten last Christmas or what they wanted this year. Even some adults would become nostalgic and recall their youth where they wrote their Christmas lists and stayed up late Christmas Eve to try and catch a glimpse of him.

His sleigh was his pride and joy. And some stupid pigeon had flown into the side of it one one of his test runs, and there was a huge dusty print on the side of the damn thing.

It needed a wash anyway, and the best way to do that would be to do it himself. The elves were useless when it came to actual work, and the Yeti already had their hands full. Carrying through a bucket of hot soapy water, a few rags and a tub of wax, North locked the door behind him and stared at the sleigh in the launch pad.

"Vremya dlya raboty," he grumbled, rolling his sleeves up as he set into cleaning.

He had to admit though, it was somewhat therapeutic. Just some time away from the noise and the bustle of the workshop, tucking himself away in a corner of the Pole that his helpers wouldn't really think to look for him in because he seldom came down here unless he needed to. There wouldn't be anyone barging in, even less chance of one of the Yeti accidentally breaking something if on the off chance they did, and the elves would more than likely stay in the kitchens eating the cookies he'd had made for later than bother him down here.

He was a proud man, and as he polished the sleigh up, he grinned to himself, climbing in and sitting down behind the reins to relax for a moment now he'd finished. It hadn't taken him long, he'd grown up with a strong work ethic in his youth and he'd carried that with him his entire life. Jobs didn't take him long, and sometimes it was a bit disappointing because he'd like to spend more than an hour on something before he finished and took in all his efforts.

Now the sleigh was all polished and clean and he'd have to go back to the workshop and deal with the rabble... and even though it was November he didn't feel like it just yet. He wanted a little break.

Smirking to himself, he climbed back out of the sleigh and wandered through to the stables where his reindeer were kept, and walked around them, petting their noses.

"Dimitri," he said gently, hushing the most agitated of the beasts. He went around slowly, greeting each one of them like old friends. "Viktor, Orrel, Kostya, Luka, Tasha."

The snorted and looked at him expectantly, and slowly he pulled the reins down from the shelves and let Kostya out of his pen, reining him up, before pulling Luka out and putting him alongside Kostya. They were his lead reindeer, purely for the meanings of their names. Constant and Light. Together he thought they worked well, and they were the best as leading.

Orrel and Dimitri came next. Dimitri preferred staying grounded, whereas Orrel would fly forever if he had the chance. Earth Lover, and Eagle. Together, they balanced one another out. Orrel would encourage Dimitri and Dimitri would keep Orrel in check. The two bumped their noses together, and North smiled slightly at them, knowing the brothers cared deeply for one another.

Turning, North opened the last pen, where his last two reindeer were kept. Tasha was his only girl, and his favourite. Tasha meant Born on Christmas, and she had been. She was a loving girl, and calmed her mate Viktor down who would be wild without her. His name meant, quite obviously, Victor and he would on more occasions than not stand by it, trying to prove himself dominant to the other reindeer. If North put him at the lead then it would only inflate the creatures ego, so putting him at the back was the only way to keep him under thumb. North loved his spirit, but sometimes the animal could be too much.

He led them out to the sleigh, putting Victor and Tasha at the back and closest to him as his wheels, Orrel and Dimitri in the middle as the swing reindeer, and Kostya and Luka up front as the lead. Once everything was fixed up and they were ready, North pulled his coat on, took his place at the reins and snapped them, and they were off.

In minutes, the sleigh was soaring through the skies, and in a matter of hours they were crossing down over Canada and flying over Quebec.

Laughing to himself, North almost missed the thump on the side of the sleigh, but turned his head just in time to see a very confused goose flap about in the air before catching up to the rest of the geese and finding its place in the formation. Sighing, the Russian glanced over the side and saw another dusty print of the bird, and shaking his head he realised he had to clean the sleigh again.

But really, it wasn't such a bad thing. He liked the time to himself.


	19. Brash

I liked doing this one, it kind of shows how dysfunctional they can all be, at least the hot headed men that we know as the Guardians.

Bunny needs to learn to calm his tits.

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**Brash, adj**  
**- self confident and aggressive**

"Shut up you little wanker!" Bunny yelled, and Jack took a step back, offended.

"You're seriously starting with language? All I called you was a kangaroo," he defended, the white haired teen crossed his arms over his chest and pouted slightly, but the dismissive tone of his voice and his just-too-relaxed stance made Bunny more mad, and the teen had to duck as a fist went flying at him.

"I've had enough of it, ya' hear me? I swear I'll knock your bleeding head off!"

"Listen, it was a joke!" Jack cried, skipping backward out of the way but hitting one of the thick beams that stood in the Pole's workshop, and he gulped a little as the Pooka advanced, shoulders squared and hands balled into fists at his sides.

"I've had enough of your jokes. I've stopped em with you, now you better pack it in or-"

"Or what?" Jack cut in, his voice snarky and he stepped up to Bunny with his own shoulders squared, ready to smack him around the head with his staff.

"Boys! Stop it!" Tooth cried, rushing over and forcing herself between the pair.

"Stay out of it," they chimed, Bunny even went as far as to grab her hand and steer her out of the way, so angry at Jack that he didn't want anybody to intervene, he just wanted to rip him limb from limb.

"I thought we did well when you became a Guardian, but since then you've just cocked up time and time again and I've had enough of it mate."

"I'm not your mate," Jack hissed, imitating the Aussie accent, earning himself a prod in the chest by the larger male.

"Keep pushing me," Bunny warned. "Keep pushing me and see what happens."

Jack smirked, and true to form he decided in that second that he would indeed push the Pooka, without even considering the consequences, and in that second his arms shot out and he shoved hard against the Pooka's chest, taking him by surprise and watching in mild amusement as he toppled backwards. It kind of dawned upon the Guardian of Fun that he'd stuck his foot in it when Bunny jumped up again looking thoroughly pissed off.

Just as the Pooka went to attack, North stepped in, grabbing the rabbit around his middle and snatching the back of Jack's hood.

"Are you really going to fight? Yesterday you were best friends, what happened?"

"Bunny obviously started his period over night," Jack snickered, and even the Russian had to hold back a chuckle at the sharp wit of the lad.

"I'll make you bleed so much you'll wish you were on a period!" the Pooka yelled, twisted around to try and grab at Jack, but North held Bunny still, and Jack had no way of escape unless he strangled himself.

"Can we not just calm down, take a ten minute break then make up?" North suggested, sighing as he began struggling to keep hold of the writhing Pooka.

"I just want to hurt him a bit, then I'll calm down," Bunny snapped, and Jack tisked in response.

"Yeah, if you could catch me," he huffed.

"We've been through that once, I can beat you any time.

"Stop it!" North cried, and silence fell upon the pair. "This is childish now, stop."

There was a gap where the pair seemed to consider the words, and while Bunny was still North jostled him a little to get a better grip on him and make sure he didn't lurch at Jack again. This movement though, and the fact that he was being manhandled only proved to worsen Bunny's mood, and he kicked at North's leg.

"Childish? This coming from the git that thinks Christmas is the best thing since sliced bread? You're just an arrogant tosser."

"Excuse me?" North blurted, feeling his own temper rise.

"You're excused, now let me go," Jack chimed in.

Soon the three of them were all bickering, their voices growing louder and louder, and Tooth watched on for a small while in a state of shock before retreating through to the main room and perching on a large pouffe before the fireplace.

Sandy was beside her in minutes, and he smiled slightly as handed her a cup of tea with a wink, knowing the herbal mix would make her relax a little and stop her from shedding feathers.

"They're just too much sometimes, they don't realise they're all as bad as one another," she sighed, but smiled at the oldest of the Guardians, as she accepted the cup, sipping at the warm brew. "Thank you Sandy, do you think you could sort them out?"

The smaller man nodded his head, lazily floating over to the squabbling three. Within seconds, they were separated and dangling by their ankles as they protested Sandy's involvement, but he left them there until they made up, going back to sit with Tooth and taking his own cup of tea, listening to her chatter about the newest plans for her Palace.


	20. Breathtaking

Short again. This one is Emma Overland centric, and I like this one a lot. I'm getting proud of my little oneshots :D

Hope you enjoy it, and please review with thoughts, feelings, and if I've made any grammar or spelling mistakes then please tell me. I've had a constant migraine for a week and it's really taking a toll on everything I do.

Till next time!

* * *

**Breathtaking, adj**  
**- it is very beautiful or exciting**

It had been exactly a year since Jack had died, and Emma hadn't felt as lonely as she did that day when she wandered around the small village on her own, ignoring the sympathetic looks from the people she knew and had grown up around, because no matter what anyone said or did she still felt solely responsible for her older brother's death.

She'd been the one to insist they go ice skating, and when he's tried telling her to wait so he could check the ice she'd rushed on anyway, and before she knew it he'd saved her life but had gone under instead. Jack had never been a strong swimmer, and the second the ice gave from under him she knew it was already too late.

The seasons had seemed somewhat out of sync since he'd gone. Winter had ended too soon last year and Spring blossomed way before its time. Summer had been long and hot before giving way to a chilling Autumn.

And although it was early December now, and they should already have a few feet of snow, there wasn't a flake on the ground. There had been ice a plenty, and so much frost clung to windows and trees and the edges of clothes if you were out too long, but no snow. And that seemed the worst thing of all, because Jack had loved the snow, and it seemed almost as if the season was mourning with her.

The small brunette wandered away from the village's outskirts, past the cabins and the pens that livestock were kept in. She trekked down the familiar old path that she'd not stepped foot on in exactly three hundred and sixty five days, because she'd not visited the place of Jack's death in all that time. She'd not had the courage to.

As Emma walked towards the pond, she felt the temperature around her dip a bit, and as soon as she stepped out into the clearing where the pond was she felt a gust of cold wind hit her that was so strong it knocked her off her feet and she toppled backwards onto a pile of leaves. The air was chilled, and silent then, and Emma pushed herself to her feet and walked forward again, looking about her as everything suddenly felt different.

Something, she didn't know what, made the girl look upward at the heavens, and the clouded sky was above her. But most importantly, most significantly, a small snowflake fell down from the sky slowly, and she watched it as it continued its decent in front of her, twirling intricately on the now gentle breeze. Something possessed her to catch it, so in one quick motion she shot her arm out and the flake landed on her hand. Whereas she'd expected it to malt in an instant, the snowflake stayed in tact, and her breath hitched in her throat as she looked at it, the pattern delicate and beautiful and she felt tears sting her eyes.

It had been exactly a year since Jack died, and Emma hadn't felt as lonely as she did that day.

But now something had changed, and though in three hundred and sixty five days she had not been able to grieve, she felt as though a wave washed over her. It wasn't grief, it wasn't pain. It was relief. Because in that year she'd felt so lonely, but now she felt as though she had him back in some small way.

Her brother Jack was still with her.


	21. Cache

I don't really know where I was going with this one.

Review please!

* * *

**Cache, n**  
**- a store of things hidden away**

While the sleigh pulled up and the children began waving goodbye to the guardians, Tooth was drawn to a small, white item on the ground. She hadn't realised when she'd punched Pitch in the mouth that she'd knocked one of his teeth out, but she had, and a small part of her felt guilty about it. She'd only done it because he'd kidnapped and caged her little fairies, and she hated him for that. They were like her children, and she loved them, and it had hurt that they'd been gone.

She hadn't meant to actually dislodge one of hie teeth from his jaw though, that was something she never wanted to do. Teeth should only come out when they were ready.

Glancing around, she saw the other Guardians were busy saying their goodbyes. Jack was talking to Jamie, Bunny was hugging Sophie, North was trying to detach the twins from his legs and Sandy was shaking hands with Pippa. Before any of them could look her way she snatched the tooth up from the ground and kept it tight in her fist, ignoring the surge of power she felt from it, and how she immediately knew there was something significant about this particular tooth.

North, at that moment, quite simply said it was time to go. They all climbed up into the sleigh and waved to the children, letting their helpers see them off to bed. It was a sobering time, and Tooth sat quietly thinking about the events of the last few days. They'd come close to losing everything because of one being, and something told her that the tooth she was hiding in her hand held a lot of the answers as to why Pitch was the way he was now.

"Guys, I'm going to get back home. I need to tidy my Palace up and start collecting teeth again," she said gently, looking up at them all with a small smile, still keeping her hands clasped.

"Need any help?" Bunny offered, sitting up against the side of the sleigh whilst still refusing to look over the sides.

"No, I should be okay, my fairies know where everything goes and they're really quite efficient."

"Right, well you know where we are if you do," he said with a smile, and she hugged him quickly in thanks, then hugging each of the other guys in turn before flying down from the sleigh to her Palace. North had been kind enough to fly over to her Palace to make it easier for her, and as she swooped in she was greeted by a swarm of her little ladies who were happy to see her, and she was equally happy to see them.

"Excuse me girls, I have some things to do," she said gently, apologising to them all as she pulled herself away from them all, and she swooped down into the gardens of the Palace, bursting quickly through a waterfall to appear in a secret chamber on the other side. It was brightly lit with coloured lanterns and patterns like stained glass shone up the stone walls. In the back of the chamber was a small cabinet that she kept everything important in. Her teeth were in there, in the box her parents had made for her when she was a child.

There were mostly just trinkets in there, and slowly she set down Pitch's tooth beside some golden bangles she'd received from North a few Christmas's ago, and looked at it.

She wanted to search the memories, but there was something telling her to wait, because it didn't seem right to invade someone's life, even if it would give her an important insight into their character.

She wondered vaguely if she should seek Pitch out and ask his permission to look at his memories, but she didn't feel that was the best thing to do at the moment.

So instead she shut the door of the cabinet slowly, kneeling before it for a small while as she thought about what she should do. If she should just look at them despite her hesitations, if she should talk to the other Guardians about it, or if she should seek the Nightmare King out.

Deciding finally that it would be best to leave them for another day, she turned and burst through the waterfall again, watching the light beam through the scattered water droplets and rainbows cast through the air all around her.

The memories that tooth held were possibly the most important she could find at a time like this, but at the same time, it didn't feel like the right time to explore them. She'd just keep them hidden away for now.


	22. Catalyst

Jokermask18 suggested I do a sequel to 'cache' (pervious oneshot) and I thought 'what the hell', so here it is :)

It's longer than a typical oneshot I do for this series, but yeah. Hope you like it and I would suggest reading the previous chapter if you haven't already.

Please review :)

* * *

**Catalyst, n**  
**- causes change to happen**

"Baby Tooth, go fetch Bunny please," she said gently to her little fairy, watching as she blinked her blue and pink eyes before nodding her little head and flying South East towards Australia. It took the best part of an hour, and Tooth waited nervously for Baby and Bunny to return so she could talk to him about her latest find.

When a hole appeared in the ground before her, she let out a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding, and mauve eyes watched as the grey and white Pooka emerged in front of her, looking worried.

"You alright Sheila?" he asked quickly, stepping towards her and placing a furry hand gently on her shoulder.

"I'm fine, but there's something I need to talk to you about," the fairy explained, and although his vivid green eyes expressed confusion, the great rabbit nodded his head and followed her down to the gardens. At first Bunny hesitated at the waterfall, looking at Tooth as she pushed through it and groaning inwardly at the fact that he was going to get wet. It was – he supposed – the least of his worries, and he went through to appear on the other side looking absolutely drenched, his fur hanging down and sopping wet with water.

"You never said I'd get wet," he mumbled, shaking himself and getting what he could of the water off him. He wondered why she'd brought him down here, and in the hundreds of years he'd known her, she'd never taken him to this part of the Palace. Nor any of the others, he imagined, otherwise they would have mentioned something.

"Bunny, I need you to promise you won't tell the others about this," the fairy said gently, landing next to an intricately carved maple cabinet, and he nodded his head jerkily as he went towards it. Something about this hide out seemed special, and he glanced around at the lights and colours cast up the walls before approaching her.

"Sure... Toothiana, you sure you're okay?"

The mauve eyed woman was caught off guard by the use of her full name, and she turned her head to look at him, his eyes narrowed in concern, his eyebrows knitted together as he tried to read her body language. She nodded, forcing a smile, when in all honesty she didn't know if she should be including Bunny of all the Guardians in this. Pitch had hurt the Pooka badly in the past.

"When I punched Pitch-" she explained, and he nodded without showing any emotion, and that eased her mind because she knew if he was going to be odd about this then he would have gloated in that fact. She started again, more sure of herself. "When I punched Pitch, one of his teeth came out. And I know... I just know it holds important information about him. Memories that we need to see to understand him."

"He's not really a man I want to understand," Bunny replied stiffly, but his curiosity was getting the better of him, and he shuffled forward on his haunches to see the white tooth she took out of the cabinet and held in her palm.

"I know Bunny, I know," she said softly, stroking her spare hand over his cheek soothingly. "I don't think I want to know more about him either, but I think it's important we do. There could be memories held in here that we need to see."

"How do we see them?" he asked, watching her hand as she lowered it, then tracking his green eyes back up to meet her mauve ones, and without blinking she told him.

"We just can... but I need you to tell me it's the right thing to do. I need you to. Because I don't usually do this, and it feels wrong, but if you tell me it's right then I will."

"I can't tell you that," he whispered, and he saw the disappointment in her eyes, and deep down he wanted to know what memories that tooth held. "I don't know if it is, but it's important we see them. I dunno love, maybe we'll see plans for a future attack or reasons why he did this one, but I think we have to, right or not."

Toothiana simply nodded her head, and she pulled Bunny's hand until it was hanging in the air palm up, dropped the tooth in his hand, then pressed hers over his. Instantly the lights in the hide out washed away, the rainbows cast up the walls melted into a bright white, and they stared as a golden palace stood before their eyes, and in shock they watched as a younger Pitch played with a small child.

Except he seemed... different. His skin wasn't as pale, his hair lighter, his eyes held such warm and happiness. The girl in his arms looked the spitting image of him, with thin lips that curved up into a smile and long brown hair that hung to her waist. She was talking to him about butterflies, and he listened intently as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.

Then another memory took it's place, the first melting and running away like water as the second rushed in, and they watched he Pitch talked to non other than Tsar Lunar, the man in the moon. Tsar referred to him as _'General Kozmotis'_, and Pitch listened to his instructions carefully, standing tall and proud in his golden armour, his face concentrated and determined. They were clensing the world of darkness, and fearlings.

A third memory came, where Pitch – Kozmotis – was pacing a darkened hall, looking weary and beaten. The sword in his hand glittered in the torchlight and he paused for just a moment as he took a locket from around his neck and cracked it open, looking down fondly at the picture inside. His daughter. A whispered word escape his lips – _'Seraphina'_.

And then whatever was behind a door began calling him, it's voice high and scared, and he looked sharply as all sense left him, the sound of his daughter calling for help. Calling for him. Dropping his weapon, dropping the locket to the floor he rushed to the heavy prison doors and fumbled with the keys to the cell, calling back for his child. Promising her he would come, frustrated with himself that he wasn't moving quickly enough. And when he did swing the doors open it was revealed it was all a trap.

The fearlings inside swept forward and consumed the man they'd fooled. And in horror the Guardians watching the memories saw the proud and good man Kozmotis dissolve into something horrific, monstrous, and as the new being staggered backward they saw the man they knew now as Pitch.

Merely a shadow of what he once was.

Tooth ripped her hand away from the tooth, unable to watch any more, and she looked up with wide, shocked eyes at the rabbit that was staring back at her, the horror she felt mirrored in those green depths.

This meant everything they thought they knew about Pitch Black was a lie. He was not just a cold blooded man who desired to rule the world with fear. He was a prisoner in his own body, contorted by the fears he felt and plagued by his own nightmares. Not a word was spoken as the pair sat back and mulled over the new information, Tooth wondering if the good could be found again, Bunny thinking about all the wrong that had been committed and how the blame had fallen on the man who perhaps was not actually to blame.

The thoughts they shared in that instant, unspoken but known, were that whatever Pitch had done in this life was not entirely his fault, and perhaps if they could trigger some of his old memories, then they would be able to bring Kozmotis back, and the nightmares would end.

For everyone.


	23. Catharsis

Sorry it's taken so long, I was away in Kilmarnock in Scotland and was busy as heck. Didn't spend a lot of time on this one, just bashed it out. Can you guys believe we passed 70 reviews already? Achievement!

This is North centric again. I'm slowly starting to realise that as much as I adore Bunny, North seems to be creeping his way past to be my favourite. I think I let all my love out in 'The End Of Summer'. I just picked a whole bunch of 'oopsy daisies'.

Anyways, please enjoy :)

* * *

**Catharsis, n**  
**- release of strong emotions and feelings expressed in drama, art and literature**

North quietly walked through the Pole, wondering how he could possibly thank Jack for all he had done for the Guardians in the three days he had spent with them. It had been a week since, and Jack hadn't been to see him or the others. North knew where the boy was – he was spending his time with Jamie, wrapped up in the actuality that he was for the first time in his life believed in. It was a significant experience, but North was weary that one day Jamie would get older and his belief would be tested and at some point he would stop believing. They all did.

But for now he'd let the boy be. He had more things on his mind, and thanking Jack was one of them. He could address the issue of children's belief when the spirit was around, and then hopefully he would understand why they tried not to get too attached.

Wondering what he could do to make the newest Guardian feel welcome, he wandered slowly around the globe, taking in the millions of twinkling lights and feeling somewhat at peace by simply looking at them. They were the only thing keeping him here, they were what gave his life meaning and purpose, they were what he loved and devoted his existence to.

He stopped in front of the control panel, tapping his foot slightly as his mind trawled through all the different things he could say or do to make it seem special.

Glancing down, the Russian looked at the murals on the floor that represented the Guardians. There were only four of them, and then it struck him.

In minutes he'd fetched his tools from his office and had pulled each of the Guardians' plaques up, placing them gently to the side so he didn't have to rework them. He pulled up the slabs around them, lifting the heavy stone from the floor before cutting it into new shapes, working it so an extra triangle could fit in. Moving the stones around, putting the Guardian's plaques back down on the floor in their new positions, he brought a new piece of heavy stone out from his office, and sat right there on the floor, in the middle of the workshop, working hard to create something new.

Hours he spent working over the stone, chiselling out the tiny details to make a small figure of Jack in the centre of the plaque. Arms by his side, hood down, long and lanky as he was with his staff held across his body. He put him in a hexagon, fitting with the theme of the shapes surrounding each of the other Guardians. North himself had his figure carved in a square, Bunny in a triangle, Tooth in a diamond and Sandy in a circle. The Russian decorated each point of the hexagon with points, reminiscent of the edges of snowflakes.

From the edges of the hexagon, outwards to the two acute points of the plaque, he spent ages etching out delicate fractal patters, layering them with patterns of gentle swirls to represent the wind the teen so often flew on. He continued like that, until at the edges he finished with two very small snowflakes, both different to the other, neither resembling any of the fractals he'd etched into the plaque before them, and he sat back, smiling.

It took a small while to dust his new work off, polish it up and set it into the floor alongside the others, pleased about how it looked like it just _fit_. Just like Jack did. He was _meant_ to be there.

North took his tools back to his office, set them down on the table and walked back out to the workshop, admiring his handy work. He didn't know where Jack would visit, but he knew when the boy did, he would see how he truly did belong there, and they were happy to have him, they loved him already.

They were family.


	24. Clandestine

This is a bit of a nudge towards one of my oneshots "The Pills Don't Bring Sweet Dreams". So yeah :)

It's focused on Sandy this time, our very own glittery bamf. I do love him!

Enjoy!

* * *

**Clandestine, adj**  
**- kept or done in secret**

Sandy spent hours upon hours every day traversing the globe and spreading dreams among the children, if they believed or not. In his eye, no matter what a child thought or believed they deserved dreams. Dreams were what sparked ambition, ambition drove people forward and helped them achieve goals. Everyone deserved a dream because everyone had the capacity within themselves for greatness. A job, a career, a lifestyle. Whatever it was, it all started with a dream.

It started with him.

But not all of the people he gave dreams to were children, not all of the people who lived on this earth had been given the opportunity to strive for something in life, and recently events had drawn him to one particular building out of all of those in the world. One institute that kept potentially dangerous people away from the rest of society.

A mental hospital.

And in the night people screamed, and sobbed, and fought. People were kept their for the safety of others and more significantly for their own safety.

One young woman draw him in.

She'd suffered with nightmares for years, and for years he'd struggled with the idea of going to help her, but she was twenty six now and so far past the age he went to to give dreams to. But he was drawn to the room she was in, watched in worry as she tossed and turned in her sleep, whimpering and sobbing as the nightmares plagued her. A young woman, slightly overweight, choppy brown hair that fell longer in the front over here eyes and shorted in the back, and when he eyes flew open in the second reality crashed back around her and the nightmare faded, and she stared at him in a mixture of shock and confusion.

But she wasn't scared, and the longer they watched one another, the more comfortable they both began feeling, and he approached slowly and sat on her bed, and throwing all caution to the wind the oldest of the Guardians took her hand and stroked his thumb along her knuckles gently, and she fell asleep.

Every night after that Sandy visited the girl, taking her hand and sending her into peaceful sleep, making sure the nightmares stayed away, and the dreams kept her calm. The more he was around her the more he understood her condition. Severe schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, depression and a suicide attempt kept her locked in this institute, her fits of anger kept bars on the outside of the window and the furniture in the room minimal to make sure there was nothing she could use to attack a matron.

He sympathised with her. Worried for her. She was too old for the Guardians to really take under their wing, her beliefs warped with her mind so not even she really knew what to believe in or think about.

It was a routine he worked himself into, a secret he kept close to him because he wasn't overly sure how the other Guardians would react to him helping this girl sleep. He suspected they'd come around to the idea, but often he wondered if she spoke about him to anyone and made them worry more for her mental health if she was seeing more beings. If it would make it harder to see her, or harder for her to express herself and be believed in. He didn't know if she'd be able to cope on her own again if he couldn't make it one night. It worried him.

And if it worried him, then it would worry the others. He knew it would, but they would eventually come around to the idea like he had.

Right now though, all this woman needed was someone to care for her. Someone who would hold her hand through all the hard times and see her through them, and no matter what would accept her for who she was. He was simply showing her a little kindness, and he hoped sincerely that she would be okay, or more so than she was right now.

But he would keep it secret, because in his eyes there was noone but the woman and himself that needed to know.


	25. Commonplace

Lindsey is my headcannon name for Jamie and Sophie's mum, so yeah. That's what I call her :)

She's just mulling some stuff over.

Enjoy!

* * *

**Commonplace, adj**  
**- not surprising as it happens often or can be seen in many places**

Lindsey looked out of the window and smiled slightly as the snow fell down. It wasn't like it didn't happen often enough at this time of year, in fact every January the ground would be covered in snow so deep you couldn't leave the house. It didn't stop her son Jamie however. In fact, the eleven year old seemed more eager to play outside than he had any other year.

Something significant happened the last Easter, but she wasn't sure what it was. Shrugging, she turned back to washing the dishes and sighed as suds got inside her rubber gloves. She wore them purely because she was allergic to the washing up liquid, and now her eczema would keep her scratching all day.

"Mom, can I play out?" Jamie called, thundering down the stairs in his Winter clothing and heading right for the front door without waiting for his mothers' answer. She turned sharply and stuck her hands to her hips, shaking her head.

"Jamie, you've not had breakfast," she called, and he stopped with his hand on the door handle, gritting his teeth as he tried to think of an excuse. "And it deeper than you are tall out there. Do you really think it's wise?"

"If I eat it'll be wise," he muttered, pulling his coat off and dropping his hat, scarf and gloves on the table as he pulled up a chair.

"It'd be wise to get up again and feed yourself. I'm your mother not your slave," the woman laughed, flicked her brown hair out of her face and nudging her glasses up her nose. "Otherwise you won't be playing outside for the next week."

She'd never seen her little boy move so fast. He was by the cupboard in moments pulling out his favourite cereal and a bowl before making a beeline to the fridge to get some milk. She watched him for a second with a small, fond smile on her face before she turned back to the dishes and continued, despite the itching that had already started.

Jamie carried on at his own pace, and she was well aware he was wolfing his food down twice as fast as he normally did, and that he was rushing to go out and play, but she didn't mind. She liked the fact that he enjoyed the weather and play with his friends. When she finished the dishes, she pulled her gloves off and rinsed her hands thoroughly before turned back to the window and looking out.

It happened every year, it wasn't a new or odd occurrence but she always did love the snow.

Despite the fact that it was the same as ever before, there was something different. Each flake that fell seemed more magical. Each mound of snow on the ground seemed as if it had built there purposefully for kids to fall in. The snow drifts seemed deeper, the roads completely blocked and it had brought the neighbourhoods together, they were sharing food and running across the street to use the showers when the boiler went out.

There was some deeper meaning about the snowfall. There was something nice about it, and however else her husband might reiterate for the dozenth time that it was just the same as every year, Lindsey herself couldn't help but feel there was something magical about everything.

And she didn't know who to thank, but whoever they were deserved it.


	26. Composure

I've written a couple about the relationship between Sophie and Pitch, staring in **Abyss** where he gave her nightmares without ever realising because he simply sent his horses out and they did their thing, and in **Beware** where it's let known that she was his first believer.

Well I decided to write more, and there's gonna be more coming too :)

So I hope you enjoy, and sorry it took so long to update this fic.

Cheerio!

* * *

**Composure, n  
- the ability to stay calm**

"Sophie! Come down for dinner, mom's told you like a billion times!" Jamie shouted up the stairs, dragging his fingers through his hair and rolling his eyes in a way only an eighteen year old could after years of mastering the art through puberty.

"Stop over exaggerating!" she screamed back through the crack in the door before shutting it with a huff. The twelve year old sighed and looked to the being sat on her bed with his hands clasped, not really sure what to do with himself.

"You should go for dinner," he said after a moment, and the blond nodded a little before scraping her hair back behind her ears.

"Yeah, but I'm not even hungry," she grumbled, sitting next to him and picking up her schoolbooks before dropping them in a heap next to her bed. "Besides, I'd not finished telling you about my day at school."

"You can tell me later," he offered, standing up and brushing his jet black hair back. "If he comes up though there'll only be trouble."

Sophie nodded her head. It was true that if Jamie came up and saw her talking to this man then there'd be hell to pay. She was talking to Pitch after all. But she'd known the Nightmare King for years, had talked to him about all her problems and he'd offered what help he could. She'd forced him to play with her teddies when she was little and he'd gone along with it purely because the little girl was his first believer. It was something that seemed to lighten him up when he was around her. Sophie, despite only being twelve, was highly aware that Pitch could be an absolutely despicable person. He was vindictive, manipulative and power hungry.

But at the same time, she'd gotten to know him very well. He longed to be believed in, longed for acceptance and his malicious behaviour was simply a tragic means to an end. He could be a very good person to talk to, especially as a young girl making her way into puberty. She had to many trepidations about growing up and despite Pitch feeding and growing off fear, he did in a small way help her overcome them. Simple comments about other people going through the same experiences as herself, or the fact that millions of people managed it already helped her see that it wasn't such a terrible thing.

Sophie knew however, that because of his less likeable attributes, it would not be good to mention her friendship with Pitch to her brother, or any of the Guardians. Especially not Bunny. The Pooka hated Pitch with every fibre of his being, and that was perhaps her greatest fear, and nothing Pitch could ever lessen.

It was the thundering on the stairs that snapped her back to reality, and when she looked up at Pitch she saw the stricken look in his eyes, mirroring the way she felt herself. She stood and motioned to the older man to hide, but Pitch seemed frozen, and when Jamie burst into the room looking annoyed at the fact that he'd had to fetch his little sister to dinner, he froze too, his eyes scanning over the pair who had been talking quietly, before fury lit his eyes and he rushed in.

"The hell is he doing here?" the brunette growled, standing between Sophie and Pitch and glowering at the man who had plagued him and his friends when they were kids.

"He's my friend," Sophie found herself saying, and when Jamie whirled around to stare in shock at her, she found a calmness slip over her and she looked up into her big brothers eyes, standing defiantly under his piercing gaze.

"Your... friend?" he asked hoarsely.

"Yeah, we've been friends for years," she told him, shrugging, and watching as Jamie turned to look at Pitch who was staying silent. For a second Jamie paused, trying to make sense of it, but then his anger burned through and he glowered at the man, gritting his teeth.

"Get out," he hissed, and Pitch cast a sorry look to Sophie – silently apologising for leaving her to deal with this alone – before melting back into the shadows and disappearing. Sophie was quiet herself as Jamie rounded back on her, furious.

"Dinner, now," he seethed, and she walked from her room to go downstairs.

The meal was eaten in awkward silence, and however much Sophie stared at her plate she could feel Jamie's eyes burning into the top of her head, and she knew that nothing good could come from him seeing Pitch there in her room, and her telling him they were friends with one another.

She knew it would all come out that she was his first believer, she just worried about what would happen when it did.


	27. Concurrence

This is in pairing with my last chapter **'Composure'**, and is in conjunction with **'Abyss'** and **'Beware'**. So yeah :)

Enjoy, and I'm writing a sequel to 'The End Of Summer'! YAY!

* * *

**Concurrence, n**  
**- simultaneous occurrence**

"Sophie, I thought you were smarter than this!" Bunny fumed, pacing around the blondes room, kicking stuffed animals away from him in his anger.

"Do you mind not abusing my stuff?" she shot, resting her back against the headboard, knees tucked up, arms crossed over her chest as she sulked with him, her eyes glanced over her possessions as Bunny grudgingly stepped over them, then swept over the room before fixing on the window, staring out into the street.

"Do you not remember what happened when you were a kid?" he asked, sitting on her bed and looking at her with worry in his vibrant green eyes.

"I can't remember what I had for breakfast last Tuesday, I don't think I'll remember what happened when I was four," she huffed, even though she did remember Pitch trying to eradicate the world of every good trait it had and attempted to fill the minds of every child on the planet with nightmares and darkness.

"Soph, he's a bad man," Bunny said gently, resting his hand on her knee, his voice quiet as he tried to make her see his view. "He's capable of very bad things."

"I know, but he's never been horrible to me," she grumbled, turning her head and looking at him. "It's everyone else who's being mean."

"What do you mean?" Bunny asked, and he instinctively held his arms out to her when he saw the tears brimming in her eyes, and in one swift movement she's crawled across the bed and into his lap, curling up as tears streamed down her face.

"Jamie keeps saying I'm stupid, Jack won't talk to me anymore, you're angry with me and cos everyone's always here telling me I've made a huge mistake Pitch doesn't come any more!" she sobbed, choking her words out.

"Aw, love... I'm not angry, not really," the Pooka told her, his voice soft and soothing. "I'm just worried about ya."

"I know, but everyone else hates me now..."

"Nobody hates you," Bunny insisted, stroking her hair out of her eyes. "We just want you to make the right choices."

"It seems like everyone hates me, they've all fallen out with me at the same time," she griped, and sat up straight so suddenly she nearly his Bunny's nose with her head. "And shouldn't people leave me to make my own choices? Everyone makes mistakes but from what I've seen over the years I've known Pitch and have talked to him, it's that he won't hurt me. He'd have done it before now if he was gonna."

"I suppose that's true," Bunny admitted grudgingly, his ears flattening against his head as his mouth twisted in dissatisfaction.

"He's not going to hurt me, because I'm not scared of him. Fear can only hurt you if you let it... and besides, I'm his first true believer in years, he's not going to risk that."

"I thought Jamie believed in him?"

"He does, but it's weird. Like, I believe in him, and I know everything he's capable of and everything he's said to me has been the truth. He doesn't keep things from me because there's no one else to tell them to. Jamie knows he's around but he doesn't think of him... he pushes Pitch out of his mind and as soon as you do that you make things a little less real."

Bunny simply blinked at her, not understanding properly, and Sophie huffed as she went on to explain.

"Like, if I thought I was going to get in trouble with my mom for not cleaning my room, then I just push the thought out of my mind. I convince myself it won't happen and in my own head it makes the possibility of it a little less real – even if that's not the case in real life."

"Ah..." Bunny mumbled, finally able to see what she was on about. He cocked his head and let the information sink in before nodding grimly.

"I guess you're right. Are you sure he won't hurt you though? Do you not want me to be here when he comes along?"

"No, because all you two would do is bicker. I've known him for years and I trust him not to hurt me. The day he does is the day I tell him to leave me alone for good. But you need to trust me to take care of myself, I'm growing up."

"I know love, and I know you can take care of yourself... I just worry is all. I'm meant to, I'm a Guardian."

"I know... could you do me a favour?" she asked meekly, looking up at him with her green eyes wide as dinner plates, and he couldn't say no to her even though he had no idea what she wanted of him.

"Sure, what's the problem?" he asked, and she sighed in relief.

"I was wondering if you could get the Guardians together and tell them Pitch isn't a problem, not with my anyway. Please? Cos I really want Jack to talk to me again, and if Jack starts to forgive me even though I've done nothing wrong then maybe Jamie will stop being such a hard head."

"Course."


	28. Corrode

I know it's been ages, but in my defence I've been really busy lately. Sorry about that!

I hope you like this one, it's a little sad though, so sorry again!

Review please, I'd love to know your thoughts on this oneshot specifically :D

* * *

**Corrode, v**  
**- Gradually destroyed**

Every time war struck, belief waned.

When this new world war crashed down over the globe, belief just vanished.

There was no semblance of hope. The only joy found was that when a battle was won, and that was not a good joy. It was malicious. It was vicious. These people were reduced to mere animal instincts now.

Memories were not happy. Fairy tales were non existent.

A small party of explorers were hiking up through the Arctic Tundra, thick coats pulled around them and oxygen tanks on their backs, their ice picks driving deep into the hard ice cliffs, pulling their weight up the side of the cliff they were scaling. The team was searching for a place to find oil. Resources were low, and tanks couldn't drive on nothing.

The first man, the one leading the team, was the first to pull himself up onto the top of the cliff they'd spent the last few hours climbing. Scrabbling for something to grip onto, his hand closed around something hard and strangely round, and he used it to heave himself up, turning to pull the second man up with him.

There was a low cloud over the mountainside, and looking about wasn't the easiest thing to do. The thought of finding a path to pick their way down on was treacherous. But the first man, the oldest of the group was busy turning his attention back to the object he'd used to pull himself up with. Bending down, he brushed the layer of ice and snow off it and peered at the round golden object. Digging around it he saw the golden ball was attached to a long metal pole with intricate etching into it, but a lot of it had rusted and was corroding away. It was unsettling, and for a second the older man felt his mind cast back to fading childhood memories... _The North Pole_.

"Come on men," he said gruffly, leading the younger crew past the object and onwards up the slight incline. The view that came to sight was something that stunned the group, and shocked the eldest of the men to the core.

It was like his childhood dreams, those fleeting things that came back to him in the silence of the night when he remembered how things used to be, had come to life before him, and were then ultimately shattered.

A vast building stretched along the mountainside, domes roofs were caved in on some of the smaller structures, the bridges that linked the place together were coated in a thick sheet of ice that had built up over the years. Perhaps the most impressive, but heartbreaking structure was the largest, situated in the middle of the masses. The heart of what the man was still calling 'The Pole' in his mind, for no reason he could explain.

It took twenty minutes to find an opening in the crumbling brick wall before they made their way into the building, glancing about at the high walls. Clambering up the mounds of snow that had blown in over the years, digging their feet into the ice to stop themselves from slipping as they made their way further into the room.

In front of them was what looked like a large globe, tilted off it's axis so it was resting against the large stone wall, the crumbling rocks and splintered wood holding it up precariously. Half of it had rusted away, only showing half of Europe and bottom part of Africa. Asia and Australia had been corroded by the brutal weather, and the Americas were nestled in the wall.

The place held a long forgotten note of happiness, and even though they were staring at the ruins of something they could not comprehend a faint feeling of wonder filled them. The place was immense. Broken toys scattered the floor and the workbenches, hats with holes in them were lying abandoned, and the men couldn't figure out what they were for.

But amidst all the confusion and remnants of joy, there was a huge overhanging sense of misery. Of death. Of things forgotten in time, things forced out due to war and pain.

After an hour of rummaging about, the group left, casting one backwards glance to the buildings and agreeing never to think of this again.

Because of the war, joy was scarce and wonder scarcer still.

The Pole was left alone in the snow to rust and crumble away, forgotten, not believed in.


	29. Dainty

You guys. I got the D.

The first D.

We can all enjoy the D's guys.

Sorry if the chapter makes no sense, it's one in the morning and I just wrote it now.

Mind, it don't need to make sense. It's the D.

* * *

**Dainty, adj**  
**- very delicate and pretty**

For the longest time, he'd loved Toothiana.

Her smiles were so warm and loving, her laugh was musical... there was always a glimmer of happiness and hope twinkling in her eyes.

Bunny couldn't help but feel like he had no chance whatsoever, because he was – when all was said and done – a giant bunny rabbit. He was a true blue, snarky, pessimist. He was adorable, the reason hope existed, really kind and caring deep beneath his tough (yet fluffy) exterior. But he was still just a rabbit.

And she... _struth_, she was everything that was good in his world.

She was beautiful. With her subtle curves that shaped her body perfectly, the light that bounced from her feathers, making her body shimmer all the colours of life, radiating everything within herself so clearly. Her wide, wonderful eyes – that shade of mauve he could never recreate in his paints that sparkled and shone exuberantly. And with all the light that burst from her, she expelled such a feeling of strength from her very bones that the Pooka couldn't help but love her, couldn't help but feel enraptured.

And yet there was a certain delicacy about her, a fragility. Whether it was in the soft notes of her voice as she spoke or the fact that she was so damn small he didn't know, nor did he think he ever truly would. But there was something about her that, amidst all her beauty, was humble. She knew she was capable of fierce and terrible things. But she never raised a hand to anyone if she could help it. She would never strike back, physically or verbally, unless it was a matter of importance. She would stand her ground defiantly – but never rise forward or shrink back.

It was amazing to watch her.

Perhaps he loved the way she could so easily fly. Something he never much liked himself, and he'd been dragged on one too many sleigh rides with North to know he didn't like it. But there was something about the way she did it... it wasn't like the bumpy, death defying experience he would come to attribute to flying with North. Instead Tooth could flit forward as fast as light, or she could drift about in the air peacefully, like a firefly, wandering. She made it look as easy as raising an arm. It was merely something she was born to do, the ability was in essence an extension of herself.

She was his opposite, and he shouldn't love her.

But she was a kind, loving soul. She was compassionate, caring, brilliant in every way he could think of, loyal and trusting. Funny! And she was so nice to touch, her skin like silk or velvet. Soft and smooth beneath the pads of his paws.

As Bunny thought more about her, he couldn't help but continue to compare their similarities and – most profoundly – their differences. He was a creature of the Earth, and she was one of the air. He was rough, and bitter – dangerous at the best of times. Toothiana at her worst could seriously damage you. But she was never rough. Always smooth. A gentle breeze blowing over the mountain – sweet and beautiful...

Their opposites were what attracted him the most, because she was something he had never had in his life before, her qualities something he had never been able to attain. And she was right there, inches from his fingers that were so desperately reaching out, and time and time again he would let her slip through the cracks because he could not make her love him. And he would never have tried to make her.

Because although he loved her with all his heart, she was not one that gave her affections so easily. Like the Earth he held fast and clung on and the emotions in his soul would run their course for lifetimes. Like the air, her emotions came and went before she could exhale again – fleeting and brief but wonderful.

Like a bird, she could not be caged. And no matter how much his heart longed for her, no matter how much he wanted to keep her to himself, to have some delicacy in his life, he could not bring himself to ground her. To make her rough around the edges. Because that would change who she was and everything he loved about her.

Instead, he would continue, as he had done for several hundred years, to love her from afar. To watch as she flew and soared and was free, and beautiful, and strong and dainty all in one. Her qualities known to him like the back of his hand, but ever changing like the winds. Beautiful... terrible, but beautiful.

He could repress his feelings for her, accept only the love of friends she would extend to him, because it would be wrong to expect anything more, and rude to turn it away, and he could live like that. He had lived like that for a large part of his life.

And he was content in that, because a long time ago he'd come to accept that the Earth and the air were two very different things, but every so often one may reach and touch the other briefly and that would be it.

There would be another time. There was always another time.


	30. Detachment

I'm sorry it's been like 20 days since I last updated, I'm just really busy with stuff and it's all getting a bit much and I have had the worst writers block in forever. It's been horrible, but I've planned my D's out and theres another few chapters due up :D Please bare with me!

And I know some of these might seem like I'm experimenting a little bit with pairings and such and crap like that... well I am. I had the JackxTooth one at the start, and last chapter was BunnyxTooth. It's all new to me, it's fun to write, and I know it might not be everyone's cup of tea but at least there's plenty more for you all to read!

Welcome back my friends to the weirdness that is my mind! I hope you enjoy!

* * *

**Detachment, n**  
**- aloofness from worldly affairs or concerns of others**

Jack didn't seem to notice that the other Guardians were concerned about him, to them, it seemed he was above noticing it. Didn't pay attention. Didn't realise that their fears were justified.

In the one year since becoming a Guardian, the teen had seemed to spiral into some sort of void. Despite being accepted by the other Guardians, despite having new friends and becoming part of a strong family unit within the group, something seemed to be troubling him, and though he didn't see it, the others did.

Perhaps he simply didn't want to see it... but his actions spoke louder than words, and the few things he was doing to torment people across the globe were starting to mount into something far more serious than him playing trickster. They were – for lack of better word – bad.

Creating a snow storm in Toronto that blacked out half the city, and despite the back up generators most families had the heating still went out. That was dangerous.

Not making ice on ponds where he knew children would go skating, that was asking for trouble. Asking for tragedy. Someone would fall through like he had so long ago, and though he had been brought back, another child would not be.

Floods in Britain. Avalanches in the Italian Alps. Freezing roads over in Russia. Someone could die.

None of them knew what was going on inside their young friends' mind, and Jack was not likely to tell them.

In the year since becoming a Guardian, Jack had found himself plagued with the thoughts of what would have happened if he'd joined Pitch. If he'd accepted the offer of becoming part of his family rather than the Guardians who as Pitch had stated – didn't believe in him. It was one of his worst fears spoken out loud... and to this day he still wondered if the arguments with Bunny meant something deeper than just a petty fight. If when North had to review toy designs rather than speak to him might it be he really didn't want to see Jack. If when Sandy sailed away on his golden dreams was it because he was busy or was it because he hated Jack for letting him be destroyed not that long ago.

Even Tooth seemed preoccupied sometimes... could she be casting her own memories back to when Jack had failed them at Easter, filling herself with regret for agreeing to him becoming a Guardian, or was she just overworked with the amount of teeth she had to collect again?

Deep inside, Jack knew he had made the right decision. Knew that Pitch had tossed him around inside his lair, had surrounded the teen with a living nightmare, had weakened him, had filled him with doubt and fear before throwing him back to the Guardians in their most desperate time of need, only to make them thin he had tricked them, when it was he who had been duped.

That Pitch came to Antarctica to offer himself as a balm for the pain, to show a little humanity and offer his understanding when really he didn't understand, and he was the cause of the pain so could never help Jack, could never be that comforter and protector. Could never be family.

He had wanted to fill the world with darkness and fear, when Jack wanted to fill it with light and smiles and laughter. They were too different.

But that voice still niggled in the back of Jack's mind, still told him that more people would have known about him if he'd joined Pitch than they did now. Jack Frost was not yet a household name, and it was a struggle day to day to keep belief in him strong, because though like North he was something attributed to Winter, he was not the main figure. He was merely a passing though, a lyric in a song – 'Jack Frost nipping at your nose' – a vision of what could be. True, as long as people were having fun, he would still be around... whereas nobody would have fun if he had joined Pitch. But then he wouldn't be a Guardian, and the fun wouldn't matter. He would be known through the ice. Through the cold.

He loved being a Guardian, loved seeing the smiles on peoples faces. But it hurt when they couldn't see him smiling back... still, after a year of trying his hardest. It hadn't taken the others that long to get their belief back from virtually nothing. Tooth, North, Bunny, Sandy... they got it back within hours, days, weeks at the most. But three hundred and sixty-five days had passed, and he had but a fraction of what they had. And he had been the one to bring theirs back to them.

Maybe belief in him would be stronger if they could see what else he was capable of. So he was trying it. In his mind it wasn't really hurting anyone.

What he couldn't see though, was that he was hurting himself. And that was what the other Guardians were scared of.


	31. Disarray

I know this is shit, I was just writing a prequel to **Anthem**. It's cruddy, but it's also 4 in the morning and I can't be bothered.

Sorry.. the next chapter is gonna kick ass though, it's called **Disaster**. Prepare yourself!

* * *

**Disarray, v**  
**- to throw into disorder**

Jack couldn't really be sure, but he was pretty certain that whatever Russian words that were pouring from North's mouth were swears. It made him smirk childishly because the idea of the man who was in reality Santa Clause swearing was just... fantastic.

The reasons he was swearing wasn't so good. The Pole was a tip. An absolute pig-sty.

It was Pitch's doing, waltzing in here and wrecking the place when he thought he'd won them, when belief was fading.

There were papers littering the floor, toys scattered about and broken, Yeti who had been left dazed and confused when he'd come and a couple who'd been injured when they'd taken on the nightmares in Burgess.

Tooth was knelt beside a couple of elves who didn't seem to know what to do with themselves, for once they were staying out of the way and out from underfoot, letting those that were able to tidy up and work do what they needed to do.

"At least you have nine months 'till Christmas," Bunny said, picking up a toy train set that had been shattered on the floor, a glimmer of sadness in his vibrant green eyes. "If you need help mate, we'll do what we can," he offered to the larger man.

"Eh, it'll be okay," the bearded man said with a sigh, running his hand through his hair before pinching his nose, looking like he was suffering with a headache. Jack walked over to a robot figure, something like what he'd seen in Jamie's room, but this one was scratched and the wing had broken off. Picking it up from the floor, he glanced around and sighed himself.

Even though they'd won, Pitch was still in some manner causing devastation. Not only did North have to start making toys again from scratch, but Tooth had to make sure all the teeth had been brought back from Pitch's lair so she could give the children their memories back when they needed them, and Bunny still had to make sure Spring was coming in in full force, even though Easter had fallen through – the thought of which made the snowy haired teens stomach twist with guilt, as he still blamed himself for that.

"Oi, snowflake," bunny called, snapping Jack from his thoughts as his head twisted around, looking at the Pooka.

"Yeah cottontail?" he replied, smirking at the rabbit that smirked back.

"You gonna help us out, seeing as you're part of the group now?"

"Yeah, I'll help out," Jack nodded, smiling slightly as he grabbed an armful of broken toys and dropped them into a rubbish sack that one of the Yeti's was holding out to him.

Admittedly, it probably wouldn't be too much of an issue, this mess in the Pole. North was efficient, and with a couple extra helping hands it'd all be fixed up sooner rather than later.


	32. Disaster

I've been in Ireland, so I haven't had chance to update, but here we are, with the promised chapter 'Disaster'. This particular oneshot is a prequel to 'Corrode', so you'll know where this is going if you've read that one. Not sure which prompt I'll use next, but if you have any ideas then drop them in a message or in the reviews and I'll see what I can do :D

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**Disaster, n**  
**- a calamitous event, especially one occurring suddenly and causing great loss of life**

He'd come out of nowhere, looking even more sinister and haunting than he'd ever done before. Since his defeat God only knew how many years ago, he'd appeared to have festered in the dark – his cheeks hallow, his eyes sunken and gaunt which only made his golden iris' stand out more, illuminating the hatred, highlighting the evil. His lips were twisted up into a menacing smile, while the very essence of him seemed to flicker and dance like a shadow in candlelight.

Glancing about swiftly, Jack saw what horrors had unfolded in the Warren before he'd arrived. Tooth was lying motionless on the floor, her shimmering pink wings broken, collapsed upon themselves, her beautiful feathers near enough al plucked from her body, leaving the skin underneath raw, tender and bleeding. What feathers were left were dull, and disintegrating. Baby Tooth was sat beside her, squeaking helplessly. Jack watched, shocked still as a nightmare descended upon the little fairy, snuffing her out before Jack could even yell out an anguished warning, his bright blue eyes filled with tears.

Tearing his eyes away from the lifeless body of the fairy, Jack spotted Bunny's boomerang, broken in half and lying upon a charred section of grass. There was no sight of the Pooka, and all the warrior eggs had been cracked and split in half. North's coat was lying shredded on the blackened grass not too far away from the spot where Bunny should have been, his swords abandoned beside it, a reddish brown liquid spattered over the rocks and material... there was no sign of Sandy.

"What did you do?" Jack croaked, his icy blue eyes turning to look at Pitch again, feeling his bottom lip tremble as grief struck him hard right in his chest.

I finally accomplished what I set out to do years ago, I destroyed the Guardians," he laughed, and the cold harsh sound sent shivers down Jack's spine. Then the full weight of Pitch's words crashed upon him, he felt as though his world started to crumble around him. His friends, his family... they were gone.

"All except one Jack..." Pitch went on, his smile twisting up maniacally. "But I can be a merciful person. I'll give you the option again. Join me, or I will destroy you."

Jack's mind reeled as he tried to take in the fact that everyone was gone, all in one single motion, and now Pitch was here offering him a ticket to life, to power... but he could never accept it – he could never be on the side of the man who had killed his family.

His bright blue eyes shone with tears, one single drop spilling over and tracing a long wet line down his cheek as his head lolled to the side to look over the places where his friends should be. Sliding down the way to look at Tooth's body growing fainter. She was disappearing, and he was going with her.

"Bite me," he muttered, turning to look back up at Pitch, looking behind him to see how the sky in the Warren was darkening, this world was disappearing too. The Guardians were no more. "I'm not joining you, I never would and I never will."

Icy blue eyes connected with vivid gold, hatred glowing in both. The corner of Pitch's mouth curled up into a sneer, and he glowered at the teenage boy.

"As you wish."

In one fluid motion Pitch wrenched his arm back and in the second it took him to swing it forward again, he'd conjured a dull black dagger, and plunged it into the teens stomach. Jack bit his tongue, refusing to cry out in pain, no matter how much it seared though him, made his blood burn in his veins. Smirking, Pitch ripped the dagger upwards, splitting the boys chest open before dropping him onto the floor, staring down as Jack's life slipped away, seeping from him with his blood.

"There will only be darkness now," Pitch said quietly, holding his gaze with those bright blue eyes whilst the boy writhed in pain, but refused to voice it. "Darkness, and nightmares."

There was such animosity in Jack's eyes before they went still and dulled that Pitch felt the overwhelming need to look away, glancing around at the Warren which was crumbling around him, to Tooth who was nothing but a whisper of what she once was. And then to Jack, who was lying motionless on the floor in a pool of his own blood.

"Time to make nightmares."


	33. Dream

It's ten to five in the morning and I've just finished this one. Sorry it's shoddy and sorry it took so long, I've been a tad busy, and have lacked motivation and inspiration when I've had a free moment.

Least it's up. Enjoy!

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**Dream, n**  
**- a succession of images, thoughts or emotions passing through the mind during sleep**

If at any point during the night, you looked up at the sky, you would perhaps only see the moon, stars, and a flock of birds that silhouette across those silver lined clouds. Hear the wind whistle through the trees, and nocturnal animals skittering about under the cover of dark.

If at any point in the night, you looked up at the sky, you would think everything was quite commonplace.

You wouldn't see the streams of golden sand descending from the heavens, seeping through the panes of glass and into childrens' rooms, twisting above their heads and forming shapes, images, pictures that moved. It was magic, in its purest and simplest form.

And the maker of this magic, the Sandman, sat atop a cloud of gold, looking down at the world and his work and seeing the millions of sleeping faces below in their calmest moments. His magic worked best with children, created the hopes and aspirations they strove to achieve in their later life, but he was also conscious of the older generations. The ones who needed a little happy dream to push them forward. One such girl caught his eye.

She couldn't have been older than seventeen, hunched over her desk, lamp on and eyes sore. The wooden desk before her was scattered with text books, notes and shreds of paper with things hastily scribbled down upon them. High School was getting harder, the workload was getting ridiculous, and the stress she was under was making her feel anxious and stressed.

Sandy knew she'd been like this every night for the past three weeks, stressing out over finals and half writing her assignments before deciding they weren't good enough and screwing them up. The waste paper basket was overflowing, and balled up half finished essays were littering the floor around it. Before tonight, he'd sent her to sleep at her desk, but Sandy was becoming more worried about her state of health. Her back and neck would start to suffer if she was left hunched over the desk again, her sleep would be broken and she would feel more anxious and stressed than she did now because of her exhaustion. He'd have to find a way to coax her into bed, and he couldn't think of any other way to do it than to go and try to communicate what he needed her to do.

Floating down, quiet as ever, he looked through her window. She was writing something down hastily as if the idea would leave her if she stopped. He watched for a moment before he conjured a small sliver of golden sand in his hands, and sent it through her open window, watching as it curled in the air like a ribbon, floating over slowly to where she sat before twisting around the lamp before it turned off.

Her head shot up, her hand reached out, and she switched the lamp on again. Sandy wondered if she could see the sand, being a teen and not a child, and for a second she turned her head away from the golden trail back to her papers. Then she stopped, and slowly she looked back, her eyes wide and hazy, as if she was remembering something from a long time ago and it was just she sight of the sand that triggered her flashback. Then even more slowly, she turned to face her window, her bloodshot blue eyes fixing on Sandy before her pen slipped from her fingers and clattered against the wood, and her body stretched out, lifting up from her chair and her feet carried her over almost automatically.

They stared at one another, and all Sandy had to do was smile slightly and point to the bed in the corner to tell her where to go. She nodded, her blue eyes never leaving him as she tread backwards through the piles of dirty and clean laundry on her floor, only stopping when the backs of her knees hit the bed frame and she sat down upon her mattress. He waited a moment, watched her lie down, before sending another stream of sand through. In seconds it danced above her head, her eyes closed and her breathing calm as she dropped into sudden deep sleep, her body limp, her mind at ease.

She was dreaming about passing her exams, the smile upon her miniature golden selves face was so bright and gleeful that it made Sandy smile too.

As he went away, he thought to himself – the Guardians were there to protect children, to help the younger generations out. It was an unwritten rule that when children stopped believing the Guardians would stop helping them as much because it was the belief in the younger ones that kept them alive and it was vital to invest in keeping that belief going as much as possible.

But it couldn't hurt if every now and then he sent a little dream sand wayward, especially if the girl was so stressed out, and especially if she saw him too. That meant she would believe again.

It would all work out.


	34. Ebullient

It's another BunnyxTooth one, all from our favourite Pooka's POV because damn me he loves that little lady. Poor thing. I hope you like it :) Please review!

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_Ebullient, adj_  
_- overflowing with fervour, enthusiasm, or excitement_

In Bunny's professional opinion, he could not be friends with someone who wasn't a fan of thunderstorms. When the rain beat down so hard upon that ground that it seemed to beat it's own rhythm for a war, and the sky darkened to colours mystifyingly darker than black, when the thunder clapped so loudly it was like Gods of old were applauding the oncoming downpour, and lightening flashed so suddenly, so fleetingly and so brightly it could be seen as a flash from some murderous steel weapon it made you blink and wonder if you were the next to feel the electric rush if you stayed out in the windy battlefield. He loved the terror and adrenaline that coursed through him, but most of all he loved waiting until the storm had passed, and he could smell the green in the grass and every breeze that wafted past. Everything seemed re-energised, renewed, fresher and more alive.

There was a calm in the air that made him lust for another storm, just to see how vivid the colours could become and how overwhelming the scents of the flowers could be.

It was on one such occasion when he was sat with Toothiana in a lush green field in central England, talking quietly about whatever topic came to mind that he heard the sky rumble, and watched the clouds roll in over the horizon. When the rain gushed down and all the other animals in the wilderness ran for cover, he looked at his feathered companion.

"What should we do?" he asked.

"Run," she laughed, the rain already coating her feathers which only seemed to make her shimmer.

So that's what they did. Tooth – for the first time in a long time – felt her feet pound the floor as they dashed to the trees, Bunny going considerably slower than his norm, but still feeling the blood rush through his veins. They rocketed through the tall grass that whipped their legs as violently as the wind whipped their backs, splashing through the fresh mud until their ankles wore matching coats of brown and tripping on sticks and branches they were too preoccupied to notice were there. She took the lead, and bunny started to lose his sprint. But then Tooth looked back, stopped and waited for him to catch up.

She never said a word as he caught up to her, her eyes twinkled mischievously, teasing him, as if she were asking if he were tired already though it was her chest that was heaving. He could only manage a grin as she took his hand and they took off again, breaking through the sheet of water to find solace in the shelter the branches and leaves provided, shaking themselves dry before they huddled together and watched the sky do battle with light and dark.

Long after the running did Bunny notice his heart was still pounding, and looking down at the little fairy cuddled against his damp fur beside him did he realise that it was definitely because of her. He knew long ago he loved her, but had tried so hard to repress those feelings. He still wouldn't say anything, for fear of ruining what they had. But he decided in those seconds that he didn't care if anyone else liked thunderstorms or not, it only mattered that they had shared this one.


End file.
